Delicate
by minimindbender
Summary: Harm and Mac come together after Paraguay, but it's a little messed up.
1. You Can Meet Me in the Back

_A/N: Don't judge, this story was inspired by Taylor Swift's song "Delicate." And as I thought about when I initially dreamed up this story and listened to some T-Swift to get me "in the mood," I remembered I also took inspiration from her songs "Style" and "This Love." Yup, true story. I suppose mainly AU, some of the characterizations may be a little off as well as various timelines, but as it starts after the disaster that was Paraguay I think we can all agree Harm and Mac were just a tad messed up. Beware, Adult Content. No Beta, mistakes are mine. I don't write very often (once a decade-welcome to my 40's!), so if this is read be kind ;)._

 _Disclaimer: Not mine, of course. Although DJE would not be kicked out for eating crackers in bed..._

 **Delicate**

 **Chapter 1: You Can Meet Me in the Back**

 _2203 Local_

 _Rooster's Club_

She wove through the pressing crowd, eyes scanning for that familiar face. She had dreamt about him tonight, a pleasant change from the blood soaked, screaming nightmares she usually endured. Oh, they fought in the dream, hurled furious insults at each other, and as per usual, she woke up in a cold sweat and tears. But this time, she also felt achingly aroused. God, she missed him. Sure, she had Clay…it was nice to have someone who knew what she had gone through, someone who she didn't even have to rehash it all with, someone who didn't ask prying questions for which the only answer was, "classified." Someone who understood without her even having to say the words. She didn't feel so alone when she was with him—didn't feel so lost. She could focus on what he was going through, how he was recovering instead of the turmoil in her own mind, and he could provide the occasional shoulder to cry on. Well, she didn't actually cry, not in front of him, but it did give her a little more strength to carry on. She at least felt a little less numb after spending time with him. But Clay wasn't… _him_.

Inwardly, she laughed ruefully at herself. She couldn't even think his name. No, that would force her to feel. Anger, hurt, and something else that she buried deeper and deeper. And that could not happen. Not if she wanted to keep herself from breaking into a million little pieces. Only a delicate thread of marine discipline kept her together.

No, Clay wasn't…" _Harm_." There, she said it. Out loud. It made her stomach drop down to the floor and caused her to freeze in the middle of the room. She could see him now. He was leaning casually against the end of the bar, glass of clear liquid in his hand, eyes cast downward. She couldn't take her eyes off him, yet she couldn't seem to propel herself forward. He was, for lack of a better word, beautiful. His hair had grown a little longer, and although difficult to see in the dim lighting, he appeared to be sporting more than a little 5 o'clock shadow. His black t-shirt stretched across broad shoulders, clung to his muscled torso, tapered down to his lean waist and hips. A delicious throbbing down low in her body startled her. How could just seeing him cause her core to clench and run wet?

 _Why now?_

She and Clay had been intimate for the past few weeks—yes, she easily responded to his touch and felt safe enough in his arms. He was a surprisingly giving lover—if she let him. Mostly she wanted it hard and fast, passionate. It made it easier to block out the memories of his screams, the visions of the two missionaries as they were executed in front of her, the sound of that damnable car battery charging as she lay strapped to a bloodied table. It also blocked out the bitter barbs tossed between a tired, terrorized marine lieutenant colonel and a tall determined navy commander. And then… _then,_ a heavenly warm bath to wash the dirt and Clay's blood off her, darkened eyes the color of a storm-tossed sea caressing her nakedness like the dying bubbles surrounding her. There was his low, warm voice as he called her beautiful, the almost kiss before they were interrupted….

Yes, Clay was a welcomed distraction. There was love there, no doubt, a gratefulness for his taking on the torture that could easily have been shared between them. He was her friend. But in the end his one major flaw was that he wasn't Harmon Rabb, Jr. She buried that thought deep down, actually rarely acknowledged it, but it was still there, lurking in the shadows of her mind. It was easier and easier to bury her feelings for him—five months and seventeen ignored messages would do that. Now, though, after her eighteenth call was finally answered, it all came bubbling up. It made her heart pound in her chest, her knees weak _(what a cliché!),_ and her center almost painfully ready itself for him.

It also made her angry. At him, herself, Clay—why couldn't she hold onto that "never" she hurled at him? She was tired of the dance, the constant push and pull—the constant need to fight for the top. She knew, though, that she lied—as soon as she heard him accept a job with the CIA and found herself crying in the public bathrooms of the hospital, she realized that a 'never' spoken in anger was the greatest lie she ever told.


	2. Come Here

_A/N: Here's the second chapter. I also updated/cleaned up Chapter 1. Hope you enjoy._

 **Delicate**

 **Chapter 2: Come Here**

 _2205 Local_

 _Rooster's Club_

Mac was jostled by a passing server which finally pulled her out of her reverie. She set her gaze again on her erstwhile partner and took a step toward him. At that moment Harm's eyes snapped up and locked with hers. He languidly lifted himself away from the bar, setting his nearly full glass on it. His casual movements belied the intensity of of his stare, the fire in his blue-gray eyes. Harm slowly walked towards her, his every movement now like a tiger stalking its prey. Mac took a few steps forward but then Harm was on her, blocking out all the sounds and sights of the room. Her mouth suddenly dry and her heart beating fiercely, she tried to speak, to say anything. Instead all she could do was was stare at him. He was now so close she had to look up to see his face. Looming above her, he looked even more dangerous now. His face was set like stone. His eyes were icy but with a scalding heat behind them. Mac's stomach flipped over again and the ache between her thighs returned. Harm's gaze flitted to her lips as she wet them with her tongue. Oh Holy Jesus, she wanted him. The fluid of her desire pooled in her panties and she almost moaned.

Harm smirked and leaned down toward her. Would he kiss her? _Now?_ " _Mac…_ ," he breathed.

He stopped inches from her lips and and all she wanted to do was flick out her tongue and lick him. He suddenly moved away from her and she had to hold in a whimper at the loss of closeness. _What was WRONG_ _with her?_

Harm's rough callused hand grasped hers and he leaned down again. His warm breath in her ear, he pulled her flush against his side and whispered, "Come with me."

"W-why?"

"We're going to dance."

He led her from the back of this odd little dive bar/club combination. She had no idea how he ended up in a place like this—it was an eclectic mix of seedy and hip that seemed so unlike him. The back portion of the club sported an ancient pool table, a weathered wooden bar that had long since lost its old varnished sheen, and pictures of John Wayne haphazardly hung on the walls. The floors were hardwood and the ceiling high. Then there was the giant white rooster decked out in cowboy attire in the back section and a rooster similarly decked out but with a patch over one eye at the main entrance. _Weird little place,_ Mac mused.

In the front area of the club there was a small dance floor. Many young couples were moving to the pounding beat of—was that actually a dance remix of—Conway Twitty? _What the hell, Harm?_

The song changed just as they arrived at the edge of the dance floor, now a slow bluesy number. Harm stepped onto the floor, pulling Mac along with him. He let her hand go and then his other arm shot out and wrapped around her waist. Harm drew her roughly to him. Her body was now tight against his, her soft curves pushed into the hard planes of his torso. His other arm wrapped around her shoulders, pressing her so close that barely even air separated them. Mac's breath caught as she felt her breasts crush up against the muscles of Harm's chest. It caused her nipples to become rigid and peaked, and she found herself wrapping her arms around his neck. She drew him even closer to her—he had to feel her rock-hard nipples through the thin silky fabric of her blouse.

They swayed together for a moment. They had only spoken a handful of words in the 7 minutes and 37 seconds since she hit the door. This wasn't the Harm she knew—this Harm was dark, brooding—that thought made her inwardly chuckle to herself—he could definitely brood with the best of them—but now there was coldness too. They were dancing together intimately, yet his touch wasn't gentle, he wasn't the consummate gentleman she knew before Paraguay. But then, didn't their lives get boiled down to "Before Paraguay" and "After Paraguay" anyway?

Mac decided to break the silence between them —this rather surreal experience had gone on long enough. She lifted her head from his chest ( _when did she put it there?)_ and opened her mouth to speak, "Harm, what are we…"

"We're dancing," he interrupted her.

"Yes, I can see that, but—-"

"Mac, no. No talking."

 _Well of all the…what an arrogant bastard!_ She started to pull away from him. Eyes flashing with fury, she laid into him.

"Dammit, Harm! No one has heard a word from you in months. Not even Bud and Harriet! I've left seventeen, _SEVENTEEN!,_ messages for you and you never, not once, answered them. I KNEW you were in town each time—Clay— "

"I don't want to hear about Clay just now, Sarah."

"Oh, so now it's Sarah? You finally answer tonight and all you say is, 'Rooster's. In the back.' Not even a hey, Mac! How're you doing? Or, how's JAG?"

"And yet you still came. I really don't want to talk about JAG right now either. I don't really want to talk at all."

He pulled her with him off the dance floor and into a darkened corner.

"Oh, really, Harm? You don't want to tell me all about flying with the CIA? Your 'marriage' with Catherine Gale?" She smirked at him. "How's that going for you?" she asked sarcastically. "And, seriously, why haven't you even called Bud or Harriet? Or at least Little AJ? I guess I can understand a little why you didn't want to talk to me. I mean, I thought were at least friends, but I guess we—"

"Mac."

"Jesus, Harm. So you're not at JAG. Your choice—"

" _Mac!"_

" _What?"_

"I. Don't. Want. To. Talk. Right. Now."

Mac glared angrily up at him, her face flushed. They were practically nose to nose now, each of their eyes darkened with fury-and s _omething_ else.

"Oh, yeah, Harm? Then riddle me this: Why did you even pick up the phone tonight?"

Harm's eyes darkened even further. He started to lean down even closer to her, and she had to bend backwards to keep her eyes on his. She was nearly enraged by now—and it only reminded her of her dream from earlier tonight. Her breathing quickened and she could feel that well known feeling of want and need deep down low inside her. By the look of him, he was just as furious as she was. But then, oh then, his expression changed again. He wrapped his hands around her shoulders and yanked her against him. " _Oh my god, he looked…he looked…oh my god…_

"For this!" He crashed his lips down on hers.

In her surprise, her lips had already dropped open and he took every advantage of it. His tongue plundered her mouth. His arms wrapped around her waist, her belly against his—his—

And then Mac responded in kind. Her tongue warred with his. Her arms snaked around his neck and her fingers laced through his soft hair. She pulled his head down further, devouring his lips. She moaned into his mouth which spurred him on even further—she had never been kissed like this, their anger, their fire serving to ignite a passion long thought buried. She could feel his manhood start to harden against her belly…

And as soon as the kiss began, they ended it. Or rather Harm ended it. He stepped away from Mac and this time she did whimper. As she regained her balance she could only stare at him in shock. Her lips were swollen and her chest was heaving, and there was that familiar throbbing in her center.

Harm turned away from her and took a few steps. Mac felt herself start to crash down from her high. But then he whipped around again, holding his arm out to her. "Come here."

 _End Chapter 2_


	3. Just Take Me Home

_A/N: Thanks for the reviews thus far! This chapter is a short one, but it seemed appropriate to end it where it did._

 **Delicate**

 **Chapter 3: Just Take Me Home**

 _2220 Local_

 _Rooster's Club, parking lot_

They stepped out into the cool air of the night. Harm had wrapped his arm around Mac's, linking them together. The logical side of Mac knew that she should pull away before things got out of hand _(hadn't they already?),_ but she found herself pressing closer to him instead. "Where's your car?" he asked, scanning the small parking lot.

"Took a cab. My car is—" Suddenly she found herself caught between the wall of the club and Harm's lean body. His lips were on hers and their tongues once again dueled for supremacy. He shifted so that his leg pressed between hers as her hands slid up his chest. She found herself grinding into his thigh, a delicious friction against her now overly sensitive core. _Ohhhh, she needed this._ She melted further into him.

Harm once again broke the kiss first, sliding his hands down her arms until he grasped her smaller ones in his. "Come on. I'll take you home."

At this point she would have followed him anywhere, up to and including jumping off a bridge. Consequences be damned! In the back of her mind she knew this was wrong—there was Clay to consider of course. She knew she was effectively cheating on him and she did NOT do that. Well, she couldn't really say that, could she, she supposed—not after what happened on the Admiral's porch one cool spring evening years ago. Other than that one time at her engagement party, she and Harm certainly didn't do _this_ either. She suspected Harm didn't even like her all that much anymore—but one didn't need to like someone for primal attraction to still exist. And that's _all_ this was.

At least that's what she was telling herself...

Harm used the key fob to unlock his Lexus and guided Mac to the passenger side. He reached around her, she assumed to open the door. Instead, his hand slipped under her blouse, sliding across her stomach and then up to graze the underside of her breast. He pressed her bottom against him and she gasped when she felt his growing hardness against her lower back. He nuzzled her neck and then sucked on her earlobe. " _I want you,"_ he ground out, clearly indicating the intense strain of trying to control himself with her.

Mac flipped in his arms and returned the favor, raising herself up to take his lobe in her mouth, flicking her tongue out to trace the curves of his ear. She continued along his jaw until she once again captured his mouth. He groaned as she suckled on his bottom lip, releasing it with an audible pop.

Harm had her pinned up against the Lexus. He lifted his head from where he was licking and nipping up and down her neck, his hand sliding up the arm she had flung above her head. His fingers laced through hers and their gazes locked. He slowly drew her arm down, never taking his eyes from hers as he placed their conjoined hands between them. Mac moaned as he dropped their hands directly over his manhood that was now straining against his jeans. He gasped as she rubbed their hands over the bulge. "Let's go," he said, his voice ragged. She nodded and then he did open her door, practically shoving her inside. She quickly buckled her seatbelt as he went around to the other side. He slid in, starting the Lexus and pulling out onto the street. Once they were on the road, he reached over and grabbed her hand, his grip almost painfully tight. He pulled it over to his crotch again, keeping it there as they sped off into the night. Mac nearly came right then. _This wasn't her Harm. This was_ NO _officer and a gentleman._

She liked it.

 _End Chapter 3_


	4. This Ain't For the Best

_A/N: I know there has been a bit of smut, and yes, this chapter is no different. However, it won't all be smut—I mean, Harm and Mac still have jobs for goodness sake—there will be an actual story. It will be an epic tale of intrigue and mystery! OK, not really. I know nothing of lawyer stuff, Washington, DC locales, or jet stuff, so mainly this will be Harm and Mac getting from screwed up to, well, not so screwed up. So without further ado…_

 **Delicate**

 **Chapter 4: This Ain't for the Best**

 _2311 Local_

 _Mac's Apartment_

 _Georgetown_

After the seemingly endless drive, Harm finally turned the Lexus into Mac's parking lot. He remained so hard the entire ride—Mac was sure he had to be in pain. She probably didn't help matters—she spent the ride idly stroking the rock-hard bulge, causing him to alternately squirm and press it into her hand.

He slammed the SUV's gear shift into park and took off his seatbelt. "Ready?" He asked, staring straight ahead. His voice was low and tight.

"Yeah." _Oh my yes…for the last eight years._

"Then let's go." He opened the door and swung his legs around. Mac was rather surprised to see him jog around and open the car door for her, taking her hand and helping her step down. _Well, maybe the CIA hadn't completely killed his sense of chivalry,_ she mused.

He took her hand in his and they walked briskly to the main door of her building. As she punched in the code to unlock the door, Harm slid his hand under the back of Mac's blouse, reaching her bra and working his hand around to her full breast. He grazed her erect nipple through the satin and lace of her bra, then licked the back of her neck.

At that Mac dropped her keys that she had pulled out to be at the ready. "Jesus, Harm!" His only response was to pull his hand out from under her blouse and reach around to cup her breasts, squeezing and kneading them as she leaned back into his chest. He wasn't gentle, not by a long shot, but Mac didn't want gentle. She wanted _good._

"Mac, unless you want to do this right here, you'd better open that door again."

Mac had been too distracted by his hot breath and warm wet tongue ravishing her ear to get the door open before it locked again. He had her lobe trapped between his teeth, teasing it mercilessly, his large hands still on her breasts as she once again felt his manhood hard against her back. She bent down to retrieve her keys, then quickly entered the security code again. She heard the click as the lock disengaged, then Harm pulled open the door. He ushered her in, and they practically ran to the elevator. Mac impatiently pushed the call button several times, finally slapping her hand on its frame in frustration. Harm gave a low chuckle. "Patience, Marine."

 _I don't want to be patient, dammit. I want him inside me. Now!_

At last the doors split open. As soon as the doors closed behind them, Harm had Mac against the wall, plundering the depths of her mouth with his tongue. She wove her fingers through his hair, enjoying the feel of the now longer strands. She had loved his navy haircut, but this made him seem rebellious and just a little dangerous. Well, that, and the feel of his unshaven cheek as it rasped against her smoothness. He worked his way down to her jaw. The elevator doors opened just as she leaned her head back to give him access to her neck, whimpering when he drew away from her.

"You coming?"

Mac realized she was still leaning against the wall, panting. Eyes closed, she willed herself to regain a semblance of composure. She opened them to see Harm's darkened eyes, hooded with desire and need, locked on hers. He held out his hand to her.

Together they quickly walked down the hall to her apartment where her trembling fingers managed to slide the key into the lock. She stepped in a few paces but turned when she realized Harm wasn't behind her. He stood just outside the doorway, watching her. "Harm?" He looked down.

 _Oh my god, was this just a sick joke? Get her all hot and bothered and leave her humiliated? That sonofabitch!_ She couldn't believe he could be that cruel. Rage and hurt rose up in her. She was about to slam the door in his face when a strangled whisper caught her. " _Mac..."_

She read the question in his eyes. _Did she really want to do this?_

That answer was very simple. She started slowly unbuttoning her blouse, exposing the black satin and lace bra that barely covered her nipples. That's all it took. Harm stepped in the room, shut the door behind him, and slammed the lock home. He made it to her in two strides and crushed her against him. His kisses became more fevered, the little nips more intense. He slid her blouse off her shoulders and made quick work of her bra. Finally ( _finally!),_ she was topless before him. Harm's pupils dilated with his arousal. A sharp pang of want shot through her core, and she knew she had never been this wet before. That is, until she felt Harm's callused hands on her bare breasts.

Harm pinched the cinnamon bud of her right breast, rolling it around between his fingers, backing her up until she was against the living room wall. Then, he dipped his head, smiling at her sharp intake of breath when he took her erect nipple into his mouth. His tongue swirled around it and he suckled from it for a brief moment as she buried her fingers in his hair. He gave the nipple one last none-too-gentle-nip, then moved on to her left, repeating each action as Mac moaned and whimpered. Thus encouraged, he began to kiss and lick down her stomach until he reached the waistband of her skirt. He stood then and caught her swollen lips again in a passionate kiss, more intense than any she'd had before. Her legs turned to jelly and the aching at her center increased.

" _Harm!"_ She gasped as he pulled away from her. In a move reminiscent of an evening spent on an admiral's porch, Mac's lips followed his. Her tongue thrust in and she thought she'd drown in her lust for this man. And that's all this was, right? Eight years of sexual tension, anger, and hurt came down to this moment. What they were doing was so wrong but finally she could _feel_ something that didn't want to make her collapse in a fetal position. She would likely regret this in the morning, but right now she didn't give a damn. Harm's lips were on hers, his hands were roaming her body. They traveled down her back to her six, cupping it and pushing her up against his still imprisoned erection.

It was time to remedy that.

Mac's fingers reached his belt. Looking him directly in the eye, she unbuckled his belt and slowly pulled it free. He simply watched her as she unbuttoned his jeans and slowly, tortuously, lowered his zipper. Harm stopped her before she went any further. "My turn."

With that he ran his hand down over her six again, this time pushing her skirt around her waist. His fingers grazed the site of her need. _Surely he could feel her wetness through her panties._ It must not have been enough, though, because then she felt him push them aside to… _ohmygod…_

Harm's fingers slid through her slick folds, his thumb searching out and finding her swollen clitoris. Mac bucked against him, then screamed his name as he slid two fingers inside her. "You're so wet, Sarah. So tight. I want to be inside you. I _need_ to be inside you." He continued to thrust his fingers into her, thumb stroking her nub. She writhed against his hand, her hand on his shoulder to support her quivering body. "Tell me you want me inside you. Tell me you want me to make you come. Say it, Sarah. _Say it_!"

"Yes, Harm. _Yes! PLEASE!"_ She pleaded.

Somewhere in the middle of all that he had managed to remove his pants and step out of his boxers. His impressive cock was finally freed and fully erect. Harm pulled out his fingers and ripped away the thin fabric of her panties. They flitted to the floor as he resumed stroking her wet, throbbing center. Mac thought she might die if he didn't join them together soon.

Harm finally teased her entrance with his cock, pushing the tip just inside. "Please, Harm. I can't take much more. I need you inside me. _Please!" s_ he begged, no longer the proud, stoic marine. Now, she was all woman, wanton in her need.

Harm started to speak. The head of his penis moved through her wet folds. "Does. Webb. Do. _This._ To. You." He punctuated each of his words with a stroke and a kiss.

She should have been furious at is insinuations. She should have pushed him away and kicked him out. Her eyes widened in shock, but as her chocolate brown eyes locked on his intense, almost frightening gaze, all she could do was tell the truth. "No," she whispered.

"Good."

And with that, he lifted her up and plunged himself deep inside her.

 _End Chapter 4_


	5. I Should Just Tell You to Leave

_A/N: Not quite sure how I feel about this chapter; was harder to write, but here it is._

 **Delicate**

 **Chapter 5: I Should Just Tell You to Leave**

 _0237 Local_

 _Mac's Apartment_

 _Georgetown_

Mac awoke to the sound of Harm rummaging around the room. She could tell he was trying to be quiet, but like most men, he was more like a bull in a china shop-the harder he tried, the louder he got. He found what he was looking for, his T-shirt apparently, and pulled it over his head, tucking it into his jeans. Mac heard the zipper going up and the belt buckling. Throughout this she feigned sleep. She didn't know where this was all going for them, but she had no delusions that they were now a couple. Too much water under the bridge—but _ohhh_ how it felt to be in his arms. How it felt as he slid in and out of her, burying himself deeper and deeper as he pounded into her. How it felt as her inner muscles squeezed around his girth. He was big, and he filled her completely.

Their coupling in the living room was nothing other than earth shattering. Harm had lifted her up, her legs wrapping around his middle. He entered her so hard and fast that her body didn't have time to stretch to accommodate him, causing her to yelp as she grabbed on tight around his shoulders. He went still for a moment, his forehead against hers, then pressed her to the wall, pushing in impossibly, wonderfully deeper. She gave a low moan as he slowly slid back and forth. "Oh, god, Harm!" she gasped. He lost all semblance of control then, thrusting into her so hard that she banged her head into the wall. He pounded into her over and over, his grunts answered by her cries of pleasure. There was absolutely nothing gentle in this union of bodies as they finally released their pent-up desire for each other, but it was _good,_ so good. Soon Mac felt the pressure building in her center, that exquisite ache that told her the ultimate release was near. Her cries and screams grew louder, spurring him on until he gave a sharp yell as he emptied himself inside her. She shuddered around him as her own orgasm pulsated through her. " _Haaarm_ ," she moaned, reveling in the feel of his spasms as he let go inside her.

"I know, Sarah," Harm whispered, face buried in her neck. He ground his hips back and forth into her a few more times before slipping out of her. She whimpered at the loss of him; this act of passion had never felt so—there really were no words to describe it. He set her down, holding onto her while she tried to regain her balance. She was embarrassed to find that her legs were weak and rubbery, unwilling to support her any further. She slid down onto the floor, leaning her head against the wall. Mac sensed Harm lowering himself to sit beside her, mimicking her position. He closed his eyes and they both took the time to regain their composure. Her heart pounded and the sweat evaporating off her skin chilled her and she shivered. Harm ran his fingertip along her forearm and took her hand in his.

"Oh, fuck, Mac. That was—that was— "

"Yeah, it was." _So now it was back to Mac._

They sat there in silence for awhile, then Harm abruptly stood up. She assumed he was leaving, and not really wanting to face him as he went out the door and likely back out of her life, she remained down with her eyes closed.

"Mac?" Her eyes fluttered open. "You coming?"

 _Where?_

He apparently saw the question in her eyes. He jerked his head in the direction of the hall. "Bedroom."

She must have looked confused—she didn't expect there to be a repeat performance.

He rolled his eyes and grabbed her hand to pull her up, leading her toward her room. "Mac, as great as that was, my back can't take another round like that so soon, so come on."

Several thoughts went through Mac's mind as Harm escorted her to the bedroom:

 _This was wrong. What about Clay?_

Harm drew her into the darkened room.

 _I should tell him to go._

He pulled off his T-shirt, revealing his muscular, broad chest.

 _God, he's beautiful._

He pulled her toward him, wrapping his arms around her to unzip her skirt.

 _I miss him. I want him._

Her skirt fluttered to the floor.

 _This is wrong. We need to stop._

He drew her close, only a sliver of space between them.

 _He needs to leave._

He put his hands on her firm behind, pulling her center against him. She felt his penis twitch and start to rise.

 _I don't want him to leave._

His hand rose up to cup her breast. His lips brushed against her throat.

 _We shouldn't be doing this._

His lips crashed down on hers, his arms pulling her close until her breasts were crushed against his chest. They fell together on the bed, his body covering hers.

 _This is wrong. So wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. I should—I need to—I—_

He slid into her again.

 _I don't care._

* * *

And now he was leaving, stealing away like a thief in the night. Mac didn't know quite how to feel about it. Sad? Mad? Relieved? In the end she decided not to feel anything. It was easier that way—they weren't friends anymore, barely acquaintances after months apart. She knew it was her fault really; she was the one who tossed out that damnable never. Then again, everyone left her eventually anyway. She tramped that thought down. It was getting perilously close to self-pity.

He crossed the room, making it almost to the door, then doubled back again. Mac felt more than heard him step up to the bed, mere inches from her. She continued to feign sleep, fighting to keep her breathing steady in the face of a rapidly increasing pulse. Goosebumps broke out along her arms and she thanked the lord that the room was dark. He stood there for several heartbeats, unmoving. Then he turned abruptly and left, softly closing her door behind him.

 _Oh heavens, what have we done?_

 _End Chapter 5_


	6. Back From the Dead

_A/N: This got long, again a bit harder to write. Not much else to say, a lot of just Mac here :) Oh, and it is getting harder to find chapter titles taken from the lyrics of the three Taylor Swift songs mentioned in the author's note from Chapter 1-yeah, that's what they're from if you didn't pick up on it-so if they don't make much sense...well, I have to reach quite a bit sometimes-but I'm determined to see_ _this part of the plan through. And now on with the story..._

 **Delicate**

 **Chapter 6: Back From the Dead**

 _0917 Local_

 _Falls Church, VA_

 _JAG Headquarters_

Mac sat in in her office, trying hard to focus on the files in front of her. Nothing too exciting—a UA case, disrespecting a senior officer, fraternization…bread and butter stuff that any fresh lawyer could handle. Lately the cases had been as such; simple, no complicating evidence, no problematic witnesses. Mac sighed. On one hand, she was relieved that they were not too taxing, on the other, she rather craved more danger, more intrigue, like the cases she and Harm had worked together. She allowed herself to admit that she missed that, missed him in that capacity, but she also had to admit there were other reasons for her need for more excitement.

Since Paraguay, there had been a gnawing emptiness in her. Mac felt almost numb at times; nothing really seemed to matter. She did her duty; in reality her work was perhaps better than ever, but there was no spark behind it. She was constantly tired, most nights being interrupted by terrible nightmares, and the once close camaraderie she had with her colleagues was gone.

When she first returned, they were grateful for her safety, but then Harm wasn't allowed back. Where once there were warm greetings, easy banter, there was icy resentment. When they found out that she was ostensibly involved with Clay, the one who got her into that mess in the first place, and NOT the commander who gave up everything to save her, the cold resentment turned into restrained hostility. She heard the whispers behind her back as she walked by, noted the silence in the bullpen when she entered as they all studiously ignored her, felt their stares as she turned away and went into her office. Even Bud and especially Harriet only spoke to her when they had to. It hurt; she had the urge to tell them that Harm got his licks in too, but she guessed she understood. Harm was the golden boy of the office, everybody's friend and hero, the big brother they always wanted. And it was her fault he was gone.

It really was like a divorce where one spouse managed to get all the friends while the other was left only with a few scratched Neil Diamond records, the least inspired Michael Bolton CD's, and the surly pet iguana.

She added her diminished reputation to the list of things she decided she wouldn't feel anything about, buried herself in her work, and went on with life.

Eventually, after a couple of months, her coworkers did start to thaw. Maybe they noticed the dark circles under her eyes, the loss of weight. They began asking her to barbecues, to McMurphy's after work, to lunch, but she always found a reason to refuse. She wasn't mad at them, she just didn't trust that they really wanted her there. She felt the worst about Little AJ; whenever he happened to visit JAG ops, he always ran to her, throwing his little boy arms around her waist. It was the only time her smiles reached her eyes. But even he would always ask about "Unca Harm." Where was he? Why didn't he visit anymore? She would fight the urge to tell him that it was all because of her, but surely that was already reflected in his parents' eyes.

It was funny. Mac generally hadn't closed her office door in the past, unless she was with a client, and still left it open when the tension between her and her colleagues was at its worst. Once it was somewhat relieved, she started keeping her door closed. She couldn't really articulate why, exactly; she just knew that she wanted to preclude any casual conversations or invitations. She was finding it more and more difficult to find new excuses, and in any case she had the sense that they were only doing it out of obligation or guilt.

Eventually they stopped trying.

Mac returned her attention to the files, debating whether to start with the most boring or the least. _It's a gripping life you lead, Colonel. Sitting there discussing with yourself the merits of choosing one boring file over one equally mind-numbing,_ her inner voice mocked her. Mac sighed again. Sometimes her inner voice was a pain in the ass. She finally chose the UA case; she was defending and was meeting with her client at 1400 today. She opened her top desk drawer in search of a highlighter.

Evidently her favorite highlighter had fallen to the back of the drawer. She really should clean the damn thing out; it was packed full of mainly useless items. Mac snaked her arm over the stack of papers, books, and odds and ends that often made the drawer nearly impossible to open. _Why do I keep my highlighters in here anyway? A cup on the desk would do just as nicely._ Instead of the highlighter, her fingers brushed against a wooden object. She knew exactly what the object, a picture frame, was, knew why it was shoved to the back of everything, and also why she did her best to forget its existence. She couldn't help herself this time, though, slowly raking it forward with her fingertips. It haltingly slid over the aforementioned stack of "things she would never look at again" and revealed the smiling face of one Harmon Rabb, Jr. The photo was of both of them together, taken in Afghanistan.

She and Harm were in a good place at the time, their relationship largely recovered from the debacle that was her engagement to Mic, finally hanging out together again. They were back to working on cases at each other's apartments over pizza, usually ending with them sitting close together on the couch. They'd chat or simply watch a movie.

But then the Singer murder happened and Harm hadn't trusted her with his suspicions regarding Loren and Sergei. There was Harm's subsequent arrest and trial and the order not to contact him, followed immediately by the whole Paraguay mess.

It had been two weeks since she and Harm had…what had they done? Made love? She _definitely_ wouldn't call it that…not the way they had attacked each other. One night stand? No, too much history to cheapen it like that, even if it was just a one time thing. Just a good fu—the corners of her mouth quirked up. It certainly was that…honestly, there really didn't seem to be a good way to characterize it. Each time it was hot, fast, rough, even angry—exactly what she wanted then, but it was also rather sad and depressing. She and Harm had finally had crossed that line, but instead of it being an act of love, it was…well, _not_ an act of love. But the passion, oh the passion. For a short while she wasn't numb, wasn't empty, she could _feel._ Not even Clay had been able to completely do that for her.

Mac stood up from her desk, picture in hand, and walked to her window. She traced Harm's flyboy smile with her finger. _I miss him. I miss my friend._ The beginnings of tears formed in her eyes. She quickly squelched them _. Not here._ It had been many weeks since she indulged herself in her grief, for even if she couldn't admit it outright, that's what it was. She would come home after a needlessly long day at work, see that her answering machine had no waiting messages, and then the tough shell she had wrapped around herself would crack. She'd sink into a hot bath and let it out, sobbing until the water went cold. She'd get out once she started to shiver, drying off and crawling into her bed. Mac would fall into an exhausted sleep, only to wake up a few hours later, soaked in sweat, screaming and terrified. The nightmare would fade but rarely was there anymore sleep to be had. She usually got up and went for a run, showing up for work long before anyone else. She tried to remember the last time she let herself fall apart like that… _oh yeah, after about the eleventh unanswered call to Him._

It was shortly after that that she and Clay had slept together. They'd been having dinners together, spending time at each other's apartments, getting to know each other better. It was nice. She was attracted to him, she enjoyed the closeness, the gentle affection as he healed from the physical trauma, followed by evenings cuddling and kissing as he improved. It was… _nice._

Of course, Mac still missed Harm, and as her calls to him went unanswered, she fell deeper into what one could only term as despair. It was after a call to his cell where she knew he had deliberately declined it that she decided feelings were overrated. She buried her grief over Harm, the loss of her friendships, and her own failings, allowing only the distraction of Clay to keep her from being a complete automaton.

Much to her frustration, however, Mac _still_ couldn't completely let go of Harm. She was mostly successful at ignoring any feelings she had about him, but they would often come out late at night, either in a tub filled full with tears, in dreams of them fighting, dreams of him being tortured instead of Clay, or dreams where he stood mocking her as Sadik's men used that damnable car battery on her.

She began turning to Clay more and more, their relationship deepening to the point of sexual intimacy, and tried to go on.

Taking the next step with Clay should have let her put Harm to rest, but that didn't happen. She would casually work Harm into conversations with Clay, asking if he had heard anything about the former navy commander. Clay would always look at her contemplatively, answering what he could. She told herself she only wanted to know that he was safe; as long as Clay could provide that knowledge, she would be okay. Unfortunately, if anything, her calls to Harm became even more frequent, culminating in him finally answering that fateful night.

And now she could no longer ignore her feelings for him…she was furious, she was aroused, she was sad. Her daydreams focused on his touch, their explosive release, and at night, interwoven with the nightmares, was a replay of each moment of unadulterated passion. She'd sit in her office, her focus drifting from whatever she was currently tasked with, and remember how it felt to surround him, feeling the heat flow through her loins. It was so unbecoming for this squared away marine and she continually berated herself for it. She thanked heaven that Clay was well enough to be out on assignment; she didn't want him to see the guilt in her eyes. He would know just by looking at her, wouldn't he?

Damn Harm. Damn Clay. And most of all damn her. She had royally fucked things up for them all.

The sharp ring of the telephone startled her out of her ruminations. The picture frame flew from her hands, glass shattering as it hit the floor. _Dammit._ She fumbled with phone for a moment, finally bringing it up to her ear with a breathless, "Hello?"

"Hello, Sarah." The voice was soft and warm, intimate.

"Clay…"

"It's good to hear your voice, darling."

Mac couldn't take her eyes off the broken frame on the floor. "Yeah, um, thanks," she said absently.

"Well, that's not exactly the enthusiastic greeting I was hoping for. Are you okay, Sarah?"

Mac forced her gaze from the frame and willed herself to focus on Clay. "Uh, no, I mean yes, everything's fine. How are you?"

"Can't complain. Are you sure you're alright, Sarah?"

" _Yes,_ Clay. And it's good to hear your voice too. How are you?"

"You already asked me that. And the answer is the same: I'm fine…but I'd be even better if you'd join me for dinner on Saturday. I thought I would pick up something from that French place nearby and we could eat at my place, say at 8 o'clock? What do you say? A nice, romantic dinner, maybe a little… _dessert_?"

She ignored the innuendo implied in that. "You'll be back in town then?"

" _Yessss_ , Sarah. I'll be done here by Thursday and should get home by Friday night."

"Where are you?"

"A town called 'classified'—you know better than that. Seriously, Sarah, is anything wrong?"

 _Oh lord, I can't even keep it together on the phone._ "Yes, Clay. It's just been a rough week."

"It's Monday."

"Um, a _really_ rough week?"

He chuckled. "Okay, Sarah. I know how it is. So, will I see you?"

Mac cast a furtive glance at the mess of glass and wood on the floor. "Yes, Clay, yes, definitely. I would love to come. I've, uh, missed you."

"I've missed you, too. So, until Saturday?"

"Until Saturday."

"Goodbye, Sarah."

"Goodbye, Clay."

Mac hung up the phone and sank into her chair, covering her face with her hands. _Lord, this was a clusterfu—_

A tentative knock sounded at her door. "Enter," she called, hands still over her face.

"Ma'am?" Mac dropped her hands and looked up. It was Harriet, looking timid, holding a couple of files in her hands.

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

"I have the files you requested. Jacob and McCandles?"

"Oh yes, thank you." Mac rose to take them from her hands. Harriet's eyes narrowed at her and Mac started to fidget a bit under the younger woman's scrutiny. She sat down again, willing Harriet to leave.

"Are you alright, Ma'am?"

 _God, couldn't people stop asking her that?_ "Yes, Lieutenant, just fine. Is that all?"

"Yes, Ma'am. Please, though, let me know if you need anything."

Mac's tone was sharp. "I said I'm fine, Lieutenant. That will be all."

Harriet's posture straightened. "Yes, Ma'am." She turned to leave but then noticed the broken frame on the floor. "Ma'am, may I get something to clean that up for you?" she asked, gesturing to the floor and moving toward it.

Mac followed Harriet's pointing. _That damn picture._ "No!" she practically shouted, jumping up from her seat.

Harriet started back a little. Mac felt a twinge of guilt. "No, Lieutenant," she said in a softer tone. "I'll take care of it. You do enough around here, you don't need to clean up my messes too."

"Well, if you're sure, Ma'am."

"I am, thank you, uh, Harriet." Mac attempted a smile. "Don't let me keep you any longer," she said by way of dismissal. She was relieved when Harriet nodded and left her office, closing the door softly behind her.

Mac let out a breath and kneeled down to start picking up the larger pieces of glass. She tossed a few in the trash and then picked up the frame, turning it over. There was still some glass in the frame. She noticed that the largest break went directly between her and Harm, tendrils of broken glass radiating outward, the cracks in the remaining glass going directly over their smiling faces.

 _Well, isn't that nice. Shattered, just like us._

Mac sat back down again at her desk, once again burying her face in her hands.

* * *

 _1819 Local_

 _Georgetown_

 _Mac's Apartment_

Mac trudged up her stairs, too aggravated to wait for the elevator and needing the physical exertion the stairs offered.

What a wretched day. She had been unsettled since Clay called, finding it even more difficult to concentrate. Then, she had the meeting with her client from the UA case. Not only was he an asshole, he was stupid. Dumb as a post. How he had managed to make it as far as he had in the navy, she would never know. Okay, maybe he wasn't _stupid_ , but he had absolutely no common sense. He was guilty as sin, and thankfully desired to plead so. _Yeah, not stupid, but still an ass._ She talked it over with opposing counsel, in this case Sturgis, and she was at least confident that this case would come to an appropriate resolution.

Once back in her office, she had dropped her pen. When she bent down to pick it up, she managed to cut her finger on a piece of glass she had missed. The laceration was somewhat deep, but her field training told her it didn't need stitches. It just hurt like hell and ended up bleeding all over the report she had just finished for the Admiral. She bandaged up the finger, reprinted the report, handed it in to Coates, and decided she'd actually leave at 1700 like a normal person. She figured she'd get in a good workout to burn off some of the irritation of the day.

Alas, the workout was not to be. Some pipe had burst and the gym was closed for repairs until next week. She thought about going for a run once she got home, but after fighting an obscene amount of traffic she decided to just shower and spend the rest of the evening watching mindless Lifetime movies and infomercials.

As she reached her floor and opened the door into the hall, she realized those plans were about to be ruined too.

Harm stood leaning against her door, clad in jeans and his old bomber jacket. She had fantasies of him naked except for that jacket, and to her dismay her center immediately started humming with burgeoning desire. Harm looked up just as the stairwell door clicked shut. He didn't move forward, his sullen expression never changed.

 _Well hello to you too._

He stepped slightly to the right to allow her to unlock her door. "You're home early."

She looked sharply up at him. "And how would you know that?"

"I'm a spook, remember?"

"Oh, yeah? I thought you were just a pilot."

He shrugged. "Mostly," he said, following her into the apartment.

"Soooo, Webb around?"

"I'm sure you already know the answer to that."

He merely smirked, moving behind her and snaking his arm around her waist as she set her things down on her desk. Her stomach did little flip-flops as he blew then nibbled on her ear, moving down to kiss the back of her neck. She couldn't resist pushing her bottom into him, wiggling it back and forth a little. He reciprocated, pressing his growing hardness to her back. She let her breath out and extricated herself from his embrace, moving down the hall toward the bedroom. She couldn't believe how easily she was letting this happen again. "I thought you didn't like to talk about Webb?"

"Come to think of it, I don't."

"You know, Harm," she said, walking into her bedroom. "You're lucky someone didn't call the cops on you, loitering out there like that." She started unbuttoning her uniform jacket.

"I would have let myself in, but my key didn't work." He slid out of his jacket and tossed it on the floor.

"I changed the locks." Her blouse followed her jacket.

"Oh? Worried the riff-raff would get in?" He pulled his white t-shirt over his head.

"Something like that." She unzipped her skirt, letting it fall to her ankles. Gracefully, she stepped out of it and kicked off her heels.

"So how's JAG? He unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants.

"I thought you didn't like to talk about that either." She began unrolling her hose down her leg.

"Just making conversation." His jeans and underwear joined the pile on the floor. His cock was fully erect and Mac could only stare. It was even more impressive than last time. Her bra and panties landed on the floor.

"That's funny, last time you practically ordered me to _stop_ talking." She stepped up to him, reaching out to curl her fingers around his manhood, giving it a little stroke. He sucked in his breath, reaching out to tease one of her nipples with his thumb.

She kept up the light stroking. "Maybe we should sit down, catch up a little." She cupped his scrotum, fingernails scraping gently against the sensitive skin behind them. A low growl rumbled through him. "We could compare notes…my idiot UA case for your latest spook ride—but then I guess yours would be 'classified.' Not much fun in that." She rolled his balls around in her palm. He bucked against it and moaned. "We could—"

" _Maaaaaac—"_

She reached up and threaded her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck, pulling his face toward hers. "Oh, right, no talking." Their lips collided in a searing kiss.

There was definitely no more talking.

 _End Chapter 6_


	7. Your Kiss

_A/N: Here's chapter 7. Didn't realize this story was going to be this long, but as I map it out in my head the number of chapters continues to increase. Thanks for reading. As a reminder, rated NC-17 for adult content, strong language, and sexual situations._

 **Delicate**

 **Chapter 7: Your Kiss**

 _1942 Local_

 _Mac's Apartment_

 _Georgetown_

Mac collapsed on Harm's chest, shuddering with passionate release. She could hear his heart pounding underneath her ear, his chest hairs tickling her cheek. This, their second go round of the evening, was just as intense as the first. Harm seemed to instinctively know what would make her scream, moan, and come. And come. Multiple orgasms had merely been a myth to her before. Now, with his deft touch, his near perfect manhood, and the utter abandonment of both of them, she found herself riding wave after wave of intense pleasure, clutching at him and shouting his name. It was no different tonight. Her body spasmed as another jolt went through her, this time moaning out his name in multiple syllables. She felt him press his hips up into her as his hands went around to cup her six. His pubic bone was now tight against her hyper-stimulated clitoris. The man was just too good at this.

She pushed up with her arms, indulging in the heady sensation of running her hands up his ribcage then back down to his stomach to tease it with her fingertips. She could feel that he had lost weight as well, but his muscles were still as well-developed as ever. Perhaps even more so, she thought as she raked her fingernails over his pecs and down to the magnificent six pack that defined his abdomen. Mac moved her hands up again to weave her fingers through his chest hair. Harm's eyes were closed but his breath hissed in and his stomach muscles twitched at her caresses. She smiled as goosebumps appeared along his arms.

Harm certainly possessed incomparable skill in the bedroom, but she was no slouch either during these carnal encounters. The man she once accused of being a prude could let out a string of creative pillow talk, describing what he would like to do her in very inventive and descriptive detail. The moment he felt her wetness on his fingertips or the moment she turned the tables on him and took his girth into her hand, he would paint such a picture with his words that even a marine would blush.

Mac was about to slide off of him when she realized that the hurried dressing she'd applied to her left middle finger had fallen off. It was oozing blood again and as the glow from their most recent sexual escapade wore off, she realized it still hurt like hell. She gasped in pain as she touched it lightly with the tip of her right index finger.

Harm's eyes flew open. "Mac?"

"It's nothing." She lifted her self off of him and sat facing him on her knees. "Just a little cut on my finger." The damn thing was really bleeding now, a few drops landing on her sheets. _Dammit._

Harm sat up quickly, his arm shooting out to take her injured hand in his. He turned it over and saw the bloody gash. "Jesus, Mac. A _little_ cut? You're bleeding like a stuck pig!" He grabbed a tissue from the night stand. "How long ago? Don't you think you should've gotten stitches?" Mac winced as Harm pressed the tissue into the wound.

"It does _not_ need stitches!" She rolled her eyes at him, bouncing up a bit as he vaulted off the bed. He reached his hand out to her.

"If you say so. Come on. We can at least get a proper dressing on it." He practically dragged her off the bed, grumbling as he lifted the tissue away from the still oozing laceration. "And did you even clean it out? The damn thing is liable to get infected!" He moved them into her bathroom and started digging in the drawers and cupboards.

"Dammit, Harm! I didn't just get shot by some deranged poacher. It's just a little cut!" He held up one finger to silence her and motioned her toward the toilet.

"Sit down. Don't move." Mac rolled her eyes again, but did sit down on the closed seat.

"Okay, Florence Nightingale."

He glared at her in exasperation. She almost giggled at him but then remembered they didn't do that anymore—no banter, no jokes. She sighed. "Fine." She shivered a bit, the cool air on her naked skin and the chill of the toilet seat seeping into her. He grabbed a fluffy towel off the rack and draped it across her shoulders before turning to leave the room. He gave her a full view of his magnificent nude six and she fought down the urge to lean forward and bite it before he walked out. _Just a little nibble._

She heard him rummaging around her kitchen, along with a few muffled curses and slamming of drawers. Then he was back with her first aid kit.

"You moved your kit," he said, almost accusingly, as he set it on the bathroom vanity. He opened it and started removing gauze, ointment, antiseptic and tape.

Mac only shrugged. Truthfully, she hadn't needed it in so long that she had forgotten where she moved it to. Kudos to him for actually finding it. Come to think of it, she didn't even remember where she _used_ to keep it. _Impressive, Rabb._

Harm grabbed her hand and lifted her off the toilet. He moved her over to the sink, turning her around so they both faced the mirror. His arms went around her from behind and he turned the water on, checking it for temperature. Once satisfied, he took her left hand in his, drawing it under the flow of the faucet. As soon as the water hit her injured finger, she winced and sucked in a breath, closing her eyes.

"Sorry," he whispered into her hair. He pulled her in even closer to him, pressing a kiss to her scalp.

Her eyes flew open at the tenderness of the act, meeting his in the mirror. His beautiful blue-gray eyes locked onto hers, and for a few beats they just stared at each other. Her lips fell into a tiny 'O' of surprise. He looked away first, but not before Mac noticed a new warmth seeping into them. For a moment he looked at her the way the old Harm had, with gentleness and… _love?_

The moment was fleeting, however, and he was back to all business. He returned her to the toilet, patted her hand dry with a cloth, and applied a little antiseptic. He followed with antibiotic ointment, then deftly covered the wound with gauze and tape. It was a much better dressing than she had done; it even felt a lot better.

"Thanks," she mumbled, still a little unsteady after their moment at the mirror. He didn't answer, just took her other hand in his, pulling her up and whipping her around until they both were facing the mirror. One of his muscular arms had wrapped around her waist, and her back was now flush against his front. Their eyes once again met in the mirror, but this time his were heated with a hungry lust. He ran his other hand up her side, eventually splaying his fingers around her full, round breast. He squeezed and teased and kneaded causing both nipples to harden and peak, while his tongue made love to her ear. The exquisite pain of arousal shot through her core, making her wet and needy again, aching to feel the growing hardness at her back buried inside her. She tried to turn around in his arms, but Harm held fast. His other hand slid down, down until it grazed the silken black curls at her entrance. His palm stroked her mound and she writhed underneath it.

"Sarah, Sarah, Sarah…" he groaned into her ear. "Do you feel what you do to me?" He bent his legs a bit, lowering himself to tease her slick folds with his now completely erect manhood, bending her forward at the waist. Her arms went out to support herself on the vanity. His thumb found its way home to her clitoris, roughly stroking it, making her squirm in that unique combination of pleasure and pain that made her nearly cry with the ecstasy of it. He let his fingers stray down to her entrance, thrust them in and out, curling them to find that special spot that made her nearly collapse in a boneless, ravished heap.

She was so completely aroused by then that she could only beg in short syllables, "Please, Harm. Now. I can't…I need…I need…"

"What do you need, Sarah?" he ground out as he continued his digital assault on her. "What do you want?"

"I want…" She could feel herself getting close to release, pressure building, her movements becoming more erratic.

His hand slowed and he leaned slightly away from her. "Haaaaarm," she whimpered, devastated at the delay in her pleasure. But then she felt that magnificent cock pressing at her entrance.

"Is this what you want, Sarah?" He pushed himself in until just the head was past her lips. "Is this what you _need_?" He slid in further, meeting no resistance.

"Yes, yes, Harm. _Please!"_ She was nearly sobbing with her need.

And suddenly he was buried completely inside her, his thrusts more fevered and frantic than ever before. He pounded into her from behind, her shouts and cries seeming to spur him on. She'd never experienced sex like this before; mind-blowing didn't even begin to define _this._ Chris, Dalton, Clay, even Mic didn't do this to her, didn't turn her in to an incoherent, screaming mass of nerve endings that all fired at once. This time, as her orgasm spread through her, she swore she blacked out for a minute, waking to blinding flashes of lights and colors. Was this because of Harm's consummate skill as a lover or was it just because it was Harm? She chose not to focus on that question, instead just reveled in the feeling of Harm spasming inside her.

He came with a shout, collapsing on top of her, his arms coming to rest on either side of hers. He stayed there, leaning over her, his breathing gradually slowing and evening out.

"Sarah…oh, fuck, fuck, Sarah…what you do to me…I—"

He cut himself off then, just kissed the back of her neck. They rested a few more seconds, then he withdrew from her, scooping her up in his arms. He carried her to the bed, laying her down with surprising gentleness after their most recent act of passion. He slipped in beside her, both of them now lying on their backs. Eventually Mac gave in to the sleep that beckoned her, exhausted and sated by the man beside her.

* * *

 _2202 Local_

 _Mac's Apartment_

 _Georgetown_

Mac woke a couple of hours later, finding herself alone, Harm's side of the bed cold. She sighed and to her utter shame, tears started to fill her eyes. She blinked them back, refusing to let them fall. She lay there for another few minutes, until her stomach growled and she remembered she hadn't eaten anything since lunch.

She threw back the covers, touched that Harm had taken the time to cover her up. She donned her robe and padded to the kitchen, finding and heating up the leftover Chinese she had had delivered last night. She took her plate and wandered into the living room. She stopped at the window, looking out toward but not focused on the street below her. Her mind flashed on the feel of Harm's lips on her hair as he held her hand under the water. So soft, so…tender. The moment had been oh so ephemeral, but she could still feel the warmth spreading through her. _Maybe, despite her 'never,' there was still a chance for them?_ She squelched that thought with a bitter laugh. No, that ship had sailed. What she needed to do now was let him go, no more of these 'meetings.' No more of these passionate, fiery interludes. No more of his touch, no more of feeling truly alive for the first time in months. No more…

She noticed the light of her answering machine blinking, a new message awaiting her. She took a bite of her Kung Pao chicken, then pressed the button on the machine. She stopped in mid-chew as a familiar voice filled the room.

"Hi, Sarah, darling. It's Clay. Just checking in. Hope your day improved. I miss you and I'm counting the hours until Saturday. Anyway, call when you get this—I may not be able to answer—but I'd love to hear your voice. Love you." Mac nearly dropped her plate. She pressed the rewind button and Clay's voice came through once again. "…hear your voice. Love you."

 _What? Oh god…_

She swallowed the food still in her mouth, feeling it stick in her throat. Bile rose up to meet it, and she fought hard to push it all down. Appetite now completely obliterated, the sight of the food now nauseating, she hurried to the kitchen. She tossed the offending meal into the sink, and then sank into a kitchen chair. She buried her face in her hands.

 _Oh, Clay…Clay, I'm sorry, so sorry. I love you too, but you're not…oh god…you're not…Harm. I'm so sorry._

The voice in her head started to taunt her. _Poor Clay…he took everything in Paraguay on himself, he saved your life, and you just fuck Harm. Behind his back…_

 _But Harm did save both of us,_ she argued with herself.

 _Yes, but he was a jealous prick the whole time._

 _I hurt him,_ Mac answered back.

 _He hurt you._

 _I said 'never.' I hurt him right back._

 _Clay loves you. Harm doesn't._

 _Maybe he—_

 _No, he's just using you. You're his fuckbu—_

 _Stop it!_ She felt ridiculous arguing with herself.

 _But you are, aren't you? You know what that makes you? A sl—_

 _STOP IT!_ She shouted back at her inner voice, this time out loud. The sound of her own audible voice shocked her, and she stood up so fast her chair tipped over. _I am NOT a slut!_

The little demon inside her wouldn't quit, though. _You are too. Are too are too are too! What would Clay say? You're going to break his heart. Over a man that despises you. He does, you know. Why else would he come here just to fuck you and leave? You have Clay. Why aren't you satisfied with that? Why, Sarah, why?_

 _Because…_

 _Because why?_

 _He's not Harm. He's NOT Harm!_

 _That is so sad and pathetic, Sarah. Clay is—_

 _NOT HARM! Not Harm. Not Harm not Harm not Harm!_

Bile rose up once again; this time she knew she couldn't stop it. She turned and ran from the kitchen, falling to her knees on the bathroom floor. She retched into the toilet until she finally collapsed back against the tub, giving into the tears and sobs she rarely allowed herself.

This had truly been a wretched day.

 _End Chapter 7_


	8. So it Goes

_A/N 1: Ah, Chapter 8. Ooooooh, I've made it to 8 chapters. Please indulge me, I'm impressed with myself, not so much about the story (although I am thoroughly enjoying the writing of it), but that I have made it this far and still want to keep going. I start a lot of stories, either on "paper" or in my head, but due to many things, rarely get this far. I am now all about finishing this thing, wherever it leads. And for all who worry, just know that I am the ultimate shipper. I watched the show for nine years (missed the first season, have watched it on DVDs from Netflix, have the whole set now but don't care to even revisit it) and from the ages of 20 to 29 I reveled in any little moments that screamed "I love you Mac! I love you Harm!" When I rewatched the Mac seasons recently, though I am now 41, I still reveled in it. I also have to say-remember that episode where Mac, Mic, Harm, and Renee were all out on a "date" together? The look Harm gave Mac and Brumby_ _while they were canoodling was so...so...well, you get the idea._

 _A/N 2: It seems in this story Mac is fairly troubled and quite hard on herself. She always was hard on herself, for one...and like many, I never bought the fact that she just went back to her duties and was all happy, happy until she finally lost it after she killed Sadik. I really think she would have lost it before then and not exactly in the same way. At the very least, there would have been more visible cracks...I would think the utter terror of it all and listening to your partner scream while being given the ol' shock treatment, then torching your whole relationship with your best friend and One True Love would sorta mess you up a little. Nay, a lot. And Quickly. So... Ok, now I'm just rambling so on with the show..._

 **Delicate**

 **Chapter 8: So it Goes**

 _1604 Local_

 _JAG Headquarters_

 _Falls Church, VA_

Mac leaned back in her chair, closed her eyes, and massaged her temples. Her week had not improved, but it had more to do with her inner turmoil than any particular work event.

Her guilt over Clay and Harm had not lessened in the intervening days. She barely slept on Monday night. There were no nightmares that she knew of—she probably didn't sleep enough to even have any—but she lay in bed, tossing and turning, replaying Clay's words in her mind. Harm was probably right…any man involved with her was either dead or felt like they were. She wondered if it was too late to run off and join a convent.

Around 0300 Mac finally rolled over to where Harm had lain hours before. Mac buried her face in the pillow he had used, inhaling deeply. She pulled the sheet up that had covered him and was now completely wrapped up in his still lingering scent. The familiar spicy, manly essence that was just _Harm_ calmed her and she finally fell asleep.

Unfortunately, her inner clock failed to wake her at the usual time. As a consequence, Mac rushed into the bullpen ten minutes late, forgoing a shower, wearing minimal makeup, and in general looking harried and out of sorts. Bud, Harriet, and Sturgis all asked her at various times throughout the day if she was alright; even the admiral looked at her with concern.

She and the admiral had met in the break room, he entering while she waited for another pot of coffee to finish brewing.

"Colonel." He nodded at her.

"Sir."

They stood in awkward silence for awhile, she cursing the slowness of the coffee maker.

"So, Colonel…uh, how was your weekend?

 _Oh lord, now he was trying to make small talk._

"Okay, sir."

"And the Donovan case…how's that going?"

"Fine, sir. He's pleading guilty. Worked it all out with Commander Turner."

"That's good," he said absently.

Mercifully, the coffee was finally done. Mac motioned for the admiral to get the first cup, but he declined, saying only, "Ladies first." She nodded her thanks, poured her cup with a shaky hand, causing a few drops to land on the counter instead of in her mug. Her gaze flicked up to the admiral, who, much to her chagrin, was looking at her with a somewhat speculative expression. She dropped her eyes down again, cleaned up the spilled coffee with a napkin, and turned to leave. Mac had just made it to the door when the admiral's voice stopped her.

"Colonel?"

She sighed and turned back to him. "Yes, sir?"

"Are you—is everything…" He looked uncomfortable.

"Sir?"

He stared at her a few beats, eyes narrowed, the vertical lines between them on his forehead deepening. "Never mind. Carry on."

Mac needed no further encouragement. Tossing a 'yes, sir, thank you, sir' over her shoulder, she hurried out of the break room, ignoring any colleagues that she passed along the way back to her office. She shut both the door and blinds behind her and fell into her chair, setting her coffee down hard on the desk. She looked in utter disgust at her shaking hands, cursing her weakness.

For all her efforts to be indifferent to the attitudes of her colleagues, the loss of Harm, and the emotional aftermath of Paraguay, she could never quite manage to suppress this frustrating and damned idiotic reaction to the admiral. It was just one more gift from that Ill-fated trip to South America.

She had no issues when dealing with the admiral in a strictly professional capacity; she actually met with him often in her position as chief of staff. Her military training and marine bearing served her well and during those interactions she never left his office in a quaking ball of nerves. More casual contact was an entirely different matter, however.

Any attempt at small talk, brief encounters in the hall, even passing inquiries about how her day was going would allow all those carefully buried emotions to roil to the surface. She'd vacillate between panic and rage, rage the likes she hadn't felt since she dried out on Red Rock Mesa almost two decades ago. She tried to analyze this exaggerated response—much of the anger, she knew, stemmed from the admiral refusing to let Harm back in, the rest…well, the shit show that started with Singer's murder and ended at a taxi stand in Ciudad del Este did not do anything or anyone any good. There was the admiral's order to have no contact with Harm while he was in the brig, followed a few weeks later by him expediting Harm's resignation.

 _Well, maybe we need to back up here a little bit…why, in fact, did Harm resign, Sarah?_ Damn that inner voice...so chatty lately...

But, ah yes... _that._ Harm resigned to save her, while the admiral was satisfied to leave her down there to die. Tortured, terrified, alone…dead. How could he—why didn't he want to—

Well, that was certainly where the remainder of her rage came from. As for the panic… _that_ came from the knowledge that once again she didn't matter, not to the admiral, not to JAG, and, as she soon found out, not to her 'friends.' Just like she didn't matter to the mother who abandoned her and the father who preferred booze to his daughter. Her presence at JAG was not of any import, digging herself out of the abyss of alcoholism and lifting herself up to finally being a highly ranked, successful marine attorney was not impressive. The reality was that she was still just a drunk, just Joe McKenzie's stupid, tramp daughter.

She didn't _matter._

She remembered standing beside Harm in front of the admiral, hearing the vitriol thrown at the now former naval commander. She'd uttered a few pat words in Harm's defense, then found herself snappily asking to return to her duties. Permission thus granted, she turned on her heel, walked smartly to the door, passed Coates at her desk without acknowledging her, then found herself heading straight out of the bullpen. She walked to the stairwell as fast as she could without actually running, down the steps to the next floor, and exited the stairs to find the single, private bathroom that existed off one of the courtrooms. Relieved it was not in use, she quickly entered, closing the door and locking it behind her. She sat down on the stool, trembling, fighting the urge to vomit, hyperventilating in the effort to hold back the nausea and tears that threatened to overwhelm her. She emerged thirty minutes later, poised, in control, and _ready_ to resume her _duties._ And, of course, missing a giant piece of herself in the form of one very tall, heroic, naval commander. The same commander that was rewarded by her 'never' in thanks for him giving up all to rescue her.

Unfortunately, she couldn't blame _that_ part on the admiral...

And now it was finally Friday. That should have been a relief to her, but tomorrow's looming date with Clay had her stomach churning. Between that and the obscene amount of coffee she was downing to stay alert and focused, she figured she should buy stock in TUMS.

After Monday night she did manage more sleep, having only one of those awful nightmares where she woke up screaming in a cold sweat. She knew she dreamt the other nights too, she just couldn't remember the specifics. She only awakened unsettled, still tired, with vague images and words fading away before she could capture them. During the day, however, her arguments with herself about Clay and Harm distracted her, along with the intrusive visions of her second night ( _evening?_ ) together with Harm. The intensity of their union in her bathroom, the feel of his body covering hers, the feel of her body over his ( _who said they both wanted to be on top? Clearly it_ was _at least physically possible to take turns),_ floated into her mind at the most inopportune moments. It was very disruptive, and certainly no 'extra' work was getting done.

It wasn't just the sex itself that kept her mind occupied; the soft kiss to her hair, the gentleness of his embrace as he tended to her injured finger filled her daydreams even more. She would be working on a case or report and suddenly find herself staring off into space replaying the kiss over and over. At one point, P.O. Coates had to say her name several times before Mac finally came back to earth. She felt the warmth spread across her cheeks as Jennifer informed her with barely concealed irritation that the admiral needed to meet with the senior staff in five.

If there was anyone who hadn't thawed since Harm's departure, it was Jen. Harm had saved her career and he was definitely the brother Jen never had. Mac suspected she had a little crush on him as well. Her tone was never blatantly disrespectful, but there was a distinct edge. Mac let it go, figuring Jen had a right to be upset with her. She still did what Mac asked of her, quickly and efficiently.

Ugh, what she wouldn't give to be on a on a tropical island paradise by herself, soaking up the sun and leaving all this crap behind her.

Mac gave up fighting her headache and reached into a drawer for some ibuprofen. That likely wasn't helping her stomach either—she had definitely upped her intake of that as well. She nibbled on a protein bar that she had opened up yesterday; she had not been able to finish it. Her appetite, never that great these days anyway, was another casualty of all the stress.

She rubbed her hand over her face and selected another case file to review. This one would be going to court next Tuesday, and she wanted to make sure everything was in order. She decided she'd do this last task and bring the others on her desk home for the weekend. The cases were starting to stack up again, and Commander Imes wouldn't be back from Spain to help fill the gap left by Harm's absence until next week.

She briefly entertained the thought of calling Clay and begging off for tomorrow, but quickly dismissed it. She owed _something_ to Clay, although what she was going to say to him was still a mystery to her. She couldn't technically say there was someone else; she and Harm were most certainly not in a relationship. The old "it's not you, it's me" excuse was beneath her. She guessed she would have to just tell him the truth…that she realized she didn't feel that kind of love for him. Maybe it wasn't the _whole_ truth, but she certainly was not going to tell him about her clandestine rendezvous with Harm. Not for the first time did she berate herself for the situation she had now drawn them all into.

The phone rang just as she was packing up her briefcase. Cursing silently to herself, praying it wasn't some last-minute emergency, she picked up the phone with a terse, "MacKenzie."

"Hello, Sarah." It was Clay, sounding rather subdued.

"Clay…what's wrong?" Her mind briefly went to the worst-case scenario—that he knew about her and Harm.

"Sweetheart, I'm sorry. This whole thing down here has escalated and I have to head out to—well, never mind, but I'm not going to be back for a while. We'll have to reschedule our dinner."

 _A reprieve! Thank god... of course, that is only delaying the inevitable..._ "Oh Clay, that's okay. You know I understand."

"I know, honey, but I really wanted to see you."

"Yeah, me too, Clay. Please, don't worry about it. We'll get together when you get back."

"I'm not sure how long I'll be gone, Sarah. It may be weeks." Clay sounded so sad and her heart clenched a bit. She could hear it in his voice—he really did love her.

"It'll be okay Clay." _No, it most certainly wouldn't._

"Well, Sarah, I have to go. Don't run off with anyone while I'm gone, okay?" _What? What did he know?_

She forced herself to calm down. Clay wouldn't know anything about her and Harm. How could he? _Well…he is a spook…_

"Sarah?"

"Huh?"

"Are you still with me?"

 _Oh, lord, Clay, don't ask it like that._ "Yeah, Clay I'm here. Listen, everything will work out. Please, don't worry about anything. Do what you have to do. I'll still be here."

"Okay, Sarah. Goodbye, then. I love you."

To her relief he hung up before she could say anything else. She finished packing up her briefcase, grabbed her cover, and rushed out before anything else could delay her. A hot bath and a steaming mug of hot cocoa were awaiting her.

Nothing or NO ONE had better interrupt that.

She could kill someone with her bare hands in a hundred and thirty ways. And right now, she was perfectly willing to demonstrate it.

 _No matter who showed up._

 _End Chapter 8_


	9. Sinking Ships

_A/N: Well, fortunately (or maybe unfortunately) Mac's bath was not interrupted. However, TwilightPony21, you have given me an idea for later...so here is Chapter 9. Nothing too exciting here-kind of a "housekeeping" chapter. I'm on vacation now so I hope to write things a bit more quickly for awhile._

 **Delicate**

 **Chapter 9: Sinking Ships**

 _1151 Local_

 _JAG Headquarters_

 _Falls Church, VA_

JAG was a mess. The week prior, Commander Carolyn Imes had arrived from Spain, ready and willing to resume her duties at Ops. They had been without a senior attorney to fill Harm's vacancy for months, and everyone was ready to have their workload eased a bit.

That had lasted all of three days. Mac, Bud, and Sturgis had been called to the admiral's office the Thursday after Cmdr. Imes had arrived, shocked to find out that she was not a lawyer—she had never passed the bar. She had forged her credentials, and now she would have to face charges of fraud and conduct unbecoming. Sturgis was prosecuting while Mac and Bud were defending.

It was another blow to everyone's morale; they had all liked Carolyn, respected her as a lawyer and an officer, and now they were once again left in the lurch. Harm's absence was once again keenly felt, and Mac imagined she could feel their accusing glares at her back again. Not that she stuck around to confirm that; true to form, she retreated behind the closed door of her office, burying herself in her duties that had once again multiplied.

Carolyn's current caseload, thankfully still small, had to be divvied up, her fraud/conduct unbecoming case had to be prepared, and now all of the previous cases she had been involved in would have to be reviewed. That was proving to be the biggest challenge—too many cases, too few people, and, as they were all discovering, Harm had been a major player in many of them.

Now, a week after the Imes bombshell, Mac and Bud sat in the conference room, stacks of files before them. Their 'Harm' pile seemed to be growing exponentially; Mac was contemplating asking the former JAG lawyer to come back in as a consultant. She would have to clear that with the admiral, and that conversation would likely not go well. Already Adm. Chegwidden was even more irritable than usual. In more accurate terms, he was an ogre, barking at his staff or ignoring them altogether. During staff meetings he was short and sullen, and when Bud innocently mentioned that Harm had been a common player in much of what needed review, the admiral had gone off on him, telling him that the _former_ navy commander was no longer a part of this office and if Bud couldn't remember that, maybe he wasn't cut out to be at JAG.

Thankfully, Bud took it in stride, calmly saying, 'yes, sir' then continued on with his report as if nothing had happened. Mac was proud of him. A few years ago, he would have stammered and choked out his response, stumbling all over himself to apologize. He had matured into a fine lawyer and man.

Of course, none of the admiral's blustering changed the fact that Harm had been assigned to JAG for years, becoming an integral part of the office. It would be difficult to review anything from the past and not feel the remnants of his touch.

Mac looked over at Bud. "Hey, how about we take a break, get some lunch."

"Good plan, Ma'am. We could maybe pick something up at that deli you and the com—uh, you like."

"Oh, I brought something," she said, waving her hand in dismissal. I'll just eat at my desk. You go, get some fresh air." Mac looked down at her hands, avoiding looking Bud in the eye.

"Well, if you're sure." He got up to leave, turned back, and with a hopeful lilt he addressed her again, "Can I bring something back for you? Maybe one of those chocolate muffins?"

Mac shook her head without looking back up, pretending to be extremely interested in the extremely boring file in front of her. "No, thanks. I'll see you later."

Bud give a sigh. "OK, Colonel." She heard him leave the room, but within seconds he was back, nearly shouting in his excitement. "Colonel, you have to see this! The commander is on ZNN!"

That could only mean Harm, and Mac couldn't help herself from jumping up and rushing after Bud. That smarmy reporter Stuart Dunstan was on the screen, talking about some rescue, a C-130, and...

" _Harm!"_ Mac gasped out.

There he was, big as life on the screen, hair once again navy-short, flyboy grin in place. He was walking away from an older appearing aircraft, carrying a child against his hip. It was obvious he was on the deck of an aircraft carrier, and, in the voiceover by Dunstan, it was revealed that the former commander had managed the difficult feat of landing a damaged C-130 on the USS Seahawk. Once again, Harmon Rabb was a hero.

Mac's stomach did little flip-flops; her heart skipped a few beats. He was clearly in his element, and he looked happy, at ease. It was _her_ Harm again, at least her 'old' Harm, and she couldn't help the ridiculous grin that spread across her face.

"See, I knew you missed him." Bud was at her side. He had asked her a few weeks ago if she missed Harm and she had answered with an abrupt 'no' and brief shake of her head. She certainly didn't bother to mention she had seen quite a bit of him two nights before that.

Mac turned toward Bud. Harriet was also there, clutching Bud's arm with barely contained joy and excitement. "He looks so good. So good. Don't you think, Colonel?"

"Um…" Suddenly it was as if every eye in Ops was on her, judging her, eagerly awaiting her response. To Mac's embarrassment, she felt tears pricking her eyes. "Y-yes," she choked out. She cleared her throat and said in a stronger voice, "Yes, yes he does. If you will excuse me, I have to-uh—" She didn't finish that sentence, just abruptly turned on her heel to head to the comparative safety of her office. She hadn't realized that Coates had stepped up behind her and barely stopped herself from plowing into the young petty officer. Their eyes met briefly, Jen's knowing and smug. Mac mumbled an apology and tried to move around her, but Jen's hand on her arm halted her.

"Ma'am, are you—" Jen's expression morphed into one of concern.

 _I must be a sight if even the person who likes me the least in this office is worried,_ Mac thought to herself. To her complete and utter horror, a tear escaped and trickled down her cheek.

"Ma'am?" Jen asked again. Mac nodded mutely. Jen did sound genuinely concerned, but after so many months of frost, Mac wasn't quite ready to accept any kindness from her. This time she did manage to scoot around the petty officer and make it to her office before anything humiliating occurred—after this most recent performance, she was relatively certain everyone had the same thought: _The colonel's finally cracked._

After assuring herself that the blinds were closed and her door locked, Mac sank down to the floor by her desk, resting her back against her filing cabinet. She pulled her knees to her chest, then tapped the back of her head against the drawers a few times.

 _For fuck's sake. What the hell is wrong with me?_ Mac berated herself. It seemed all the emotions she had forced down and locked away for months-the hurt, anger, fear…the _despair_ , were escaping. She was a veritable Pandora's Box, her demons flying out at an alarming pace. She was terrified she wouldn't be able close the lid on all the wretchedness before even hope fled.

 _Damn you, Harm. If you hadn't—if we—_

Mac closed her eyes. She couldn't blame Harm, really. She was a willing participant in all of it, and despite her earlier resolve to not let any of it happen again, she knew without a doubt that if he appeared in front of her this instant, she would give herself to him, easily and willingly. He was an addiction, always had been, and now that she'd actually tasted him, had him move within her, she feared she'd never recover from it.

 _Stupid, stupid, stupid. What am I doing?_ She continued to castigate herself. Mac's eyes opened and looked down at her knees. She was now appalled to be sitting so inappropriately on the floor, in uniform, pining after a man who disappeared as soon as he had taken what he wanted. _Well, it's not as if he took anything you didn't freely give…_

Tears threatened again but this time she successfully squelched them. She pushed herself off the floor, then straightened her jacket, dusted and smoothed her skirt. _Get a grip, MacKenzie._

Mac moved behind her desk and pulled out her chair. Once seated in a manner more befitting of a marine officer, Mac grabbed the sandwich she had packed from her briefcase. It was good old PB&J, a favorite of hers as a little girl—mostly because it was something she good make herself. That, along with cereal, was a staple in the young Sarah's diet. She brought the sandwich to her lips, then threw it down on her desk in disgust. Too unsettled to eat, she swept it into the trash. She made a vow that she'd eat something nourishing tonight. Her uniforms were feeling a little loose and she really did not want to have get fitted for new ones yet again.

Knowing her concentration was shot to hell, she turned to her computer and played a few games of solitaire, performing dismally, until it was time to meet up with Bud again.

At the appointed time, she moved from her office to the conference room to join Bud for another round of file reviews. Of course, he was still very excited and still going on about the ever-heroic Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr. After about the fifth reiteration of St. Rabb's second coming on the deck of an aircraft carrier, Mac fixed him with a glare so severe that he actually reverted back to the nervous, stuttering man-boy he used to be; blushing furiously, he muttered a 'sorry, Ma'am' and finally settled down to the tasks at hand. However, he couldn't completely suppress the smile that would spread across his face periodically, nor the quiet chuckling to himself every few minutes.

Poor Bud didn't know how close he had come to getting his jaw broken again that day.

* * *

The next week was fairly uneventful. New cases, though plentiful, were at least fairly simple. The never-ending casefile reviews took up most of their energy; it seemed like every time their stacks started shrinking, Harriet or Jen would bring in another box. There was an interesting development in all of this, however. Jen's previous stony demeanor around her had quietly changed. She did not engage in conversation, but she did start bringing in Mac's favorite tea periodically, leaving it silently next to her. Mac wondered at the shift in attitude, but decided not to dwell on it too much; she expected it to be short-lived. Soon enough Jen would return to the previous iciness and oh-so-subtle glares.

Mac stepped off the elevator at her floor, too tired and sore from sitting in one position so long in the conference room to take the stairs. There were still so many cases to review, and it was clear they needed Harm on board. She decided she would talk to the admiral about it tomorrow, giving him the weekend to cool off; she was sure he would have a few choice words about it, would respond with venom at her request, would probably even rant and rave about it. She could handle that, this was all business after all, and in the end, he would agree that they needed Harm's expertise. Maybe he would even see fit to invite the commander back into the navy. _Right, and Harm flew winged pigs instead of tomcats…_

As soon as she had divested herself of her uniform, Mac set about finding that 'something nourishing' to eat. A quick review of her cupboards and refrigerator revealed that anything even slightly nourishing was not to be found in this apartment tonight. She made a mental note to start a shopping list, then grabbed a few takeout menus. She was just about to pick up the phone to order up some Greek when she was interrupted by an insistent knocking at her door.

 _Dammit,_ she sighed. But with her next breath, she felt a familiar tingling through her body. It could only mean one thing… _or one person_ …

She opened the door without even checking the peephole.

" _Harm…"_

 _End Chapter 9_


	10. Burning Flames

_A/N: Please forgive Harm (and me) for this chapter. It's not a "nice" chapter as you will see. Harm has his own problems to deal with—and they are starting to come to a head for him. I took a risk on this one, but it kept going through my head and to get to the upcoming "good" parts, I had to write it. Harm's actions here are definitely out of character (he says a few nasty and unwarranted things to Mac, is essentially an ass), but worry not, he will start redeeming himself in the next chapter. I didn't initially want to end the chapter where I did—I wanted to end it in a happier place, but it was already long enough, and the ending spot made sense. So, I will post two chapters today! I would imagine some will find it hard to believe that Harm would act like this—but I figure he's never lost so much before (other than his father, of course). He's going to have to deal with that. Take heart, the "real" Harm is still in there, and he will return. I promise. JUST DON'T HATE ME! Boy, I'm making it sound like Harm is really bad…no, our beloved hero would never do something irredeemable. So, here is Chapter 10, to be followed immediately by Chapter 11. Enjoy?_

 **Delicate**

 **Chapter 10: Burning Flames**

 _1834 Local_

 _Mac's Apartment_

 _Georgetown_

Mac hadn't even opened her door all the way before Harm burst in.

"Please, Harm, do come in," she said, sarcastically.

Harm whipped off his jacket and started to unbutton his shirt. His movements were quick and jerky, and his eyes were darkened to near black in the dim lighting of her apartment.

"Harm, what— "

Mac broke off as he stalked toward her, roughly grabbing her around the waist and yanking her flush against his body. His lips crashed down on hers, the kiss raw and demanding. She responded in kind, their tongues and teeth battling each other. One hand started to untuck his shirt, the other began to rub fast and hard against his crotch. He gave a low groan as his manhood strained against the zipper of his jeans. Once she had his shirt pulled out of his pants, she moved both hands to his stomach, raking her fingernails upward. She relished the feel of his chest hair as it slipped between her fingers. Harm really was bulking up; the feel of of her breasts crushed against his pecs left no doubt of that. His nibbling kisses caused her to moan as she felt that familiar dragging sensation in her lower belly.

Harm then reached down and drew her t-shirt up over her breasts, leaning down for a moment to nip and suck on her nipples when he discovered she was braless. She lifted her arms so he could pull it completely over her head, and then she returned the favor, pushing his shirt off his shoulders and down his arms. It fell to the floor while his hand went around to the small of her back. He pressed her closer to him, and she reveled in the feel of his hardness against her stomach. He then leaned back a bit, sliding his free hand between their bodies to loosen the drawstring of her sweatpants. That accomplished, he slipped his hand down inside, searching out her burning center. Mac gasped out his name as he moved her panties aside to plunge two of his fingers deep inside her. She writhed against his hand as the base of his palm pressed against her clitoris. His movements quickened as her inner muscles clenched around him, and their lips ground together until Mac tasted the coppery hint of blood.

Harm continued to work his magic inside her, her legs weakening until all she could do was dig her fingers into him, clutching his shoulders to stay upright. Mac could feel the pressure building within, and when she finally succumbed to it, her release was almost violent. She collapsed against him as his he pulled his hand from her pants, arms going around her to lift her up by her six. She locked her legs around his middle, and their fervent kisses fueled them as he carried her down the hall to her bedroom.

Harm dropped her on the bed, pulling her sweats and panties off in one smooth motion. His own pants followed hers, and in an instant he was looming over her. He had his arms outstretched, triceps bulging, hands on either side of her face. His knees rested on either side of her thighs and he was sporting a massive erection. The thought of that buried inside her made her unconsciously lift up her hips toward it.

Harm hadn't spoken a word since his arrival, so unlike his past performances. The look in his eyes was dangerous, he seemed almost angry, and Mac was so hot and aroused that she nearly came again at the stroke of his finger through the silky dark curls that guarded her entrance.

Finally, he spoke, breath heavy and voice ragged. "Do you get this wet for Webb? Do you scream his name when you come? Do you, Sarah?"

Mac at first didn't really pay attention to the actual words, too busy reaching for his cock and wondering what it would feel like to have her lips around it.

"Tell me, Sarah, what does he say to you when he fucks you?"

At that, the fog of her arousal cleared a bit, and the hand that had curled around his penis stopped its rhythmic stroking. Her grip on him loosened, fingers falling away from him. Afraid of what she would see, Mac had to force herself to look up into his eyes.

That hard look of ice behind the heat was back, and she shuddered under his piercing gaze. She wasn't afraid of him; her entire being knew without a doubt that he would never hurt her. But this line of questioning was so… _wrong._ With the exception of their first time together, he had not mentioned Clay during any of their more intimate interactions. She assumed Clay was the furthest thing from his mind, and for all his colorful descriptions of what he intended to do to her during these passionate moments, he was never so coarse.

"What do you tell him? Do you tell him how much you want him inside you? How much you want _him?"_ His hand started to stroke and tease her breast, squeezing it and pinching her nipple. "Does he touch you like I do, Sarah? Does he make you beg for more?"

Mac clutched his wrist, pulling it away from her breast. "Harm?' She looked up at him questioningly. "Clay and I don't—"

He cut her off. "Too busy? No words of love?" His lips curved up into a sneer.

Mac spoke slowly and softly. "Harm, what is this about?"

"Just wondering what kind of pillow talk the great Clayton Webb engages in, mama's boy that he is."

" _Harm!"_ Mac's voice was sharp. _What the hell had gotten into him?_ Anger and not a little bit of hurt seeped into her. "Harm? What are you…I don't want to have this conversation with you, not here and not now." She still spoke calmly, ignoring the niggling guilt she felt whenever she thought or spoke of the CIA agent. Harm just stared her down, eyes boring through her. He seemed to be daring her to continue, and as much as she told herself not to respond anymore, the words just slipped out. "Clay and I don't talk a lot during, ah… and we certainly don't talk about you when we—" _Well…maybe that was going a little too far…_

Harm sat up on his knees, still straddling her. "I'd guess you wouldn't. I suppose it's hard to talk with your mouth full, anyway." He started to lean back down to her, but Mac's palms pushing up against his chest halted him.

Her voice was dangerously calm. "What did you just say?"

He was apparently too wrapped up in whatever dark place he was currently residing in to realize the risks associated with baiting a marine. His voice rose and he ground out the words as if he were talking to an imbecile. "I _said, '_ I suppose it's _hard_ to _talk_ with your _mouth_ full!"

At that, Mac flipped him off of her. He bounced off the bed, landing hard on his six. Mac leapt off the bed on the opposite side, grabbing a robe off her floor and throwing it on, tying it tightly with angry jerks of her fingers. She came around to where he still sat, looking a bit stunned.

"How dare you!"

Something flickered in his eyes— _Regret, maybe? —_ but then that cold sneer was back. He gave a derisive snort, rising up from the floor. " _How dare I?!"_ He was obviously pissed, and she knew it was about more than just being knocked on his ass.

She stared at him incredulously for a few beats. "What the hell is wrong with you, Harm?"

"Who, me? Absolutely nothing. Why do you ask? Never been better, sweetheart."

Well, clearly that wasn't the case. This was a side of Harm that she would never have believed existed. He was rude, crass, and hateful. Even as their world splintered around them after she uttered 'never' in front of that Paraguayan hotel, he had still been polite, gentlemanly, helping her with her bags, putting her carryon in the overhead bin for her. Somewhere between then, the seventeen unanswered calls, and his new job with the CIA, he had turned into this bitter, crude man.

 _Really, Sarah? You should probably take the most credit for this new Harm. He wouldn't be like this if it weren't for you. You've managed to destroy another man. A good man. You gotta admit, you do have a certain talent for this…_

 _This is all Harm,_ she argued with herself _. I didn't make him say those things._

 _Didn't you?_

Telling her inner voice to fuck off, she took in a deep breath to quiet the growing rage inside her. Her first instinct was to throw him bodily out of her apartment. He had a good seventy pounds on her, but she was quite confident in her skills as a marine. However, though she was loathe to admit it, she still had feelings for him, feelings she couldn't hide away from herself anymore. He wouldn't make her so furious, his words wouldn't cut so deeply, if she didn't still… _oh_ , _we are_ not _going there tonight._

"Harm…I know you're mad at me."

"I'm not mad at anybody."

 _Right._ "And I understand…"

"Do you, Mac?"

She didn't acknowledge his question, just pressed on. But you've never been so…so nasty. So crude. Never."

At that he snorted. "Ah, there it is…'never.' You're sure fond of that word, Mac."

"Harm…"

"No, it's fine. Of course, _this—"_ He flung out his arm and waved it toward the bed. "isn't exactly the definition of ' _never,'_ is it?"

"Just what exactly is this, Harm?"

"This? I think it's called fucking."

Mac's face paled. The old Harm would never, ever say something like that. Not to her, not to anyone. That Harm must be completely gone, dead and buried. The thought left her utterly devastated, sending a shock through her that sucked her breath away. She stood there, stunned, her hand pressed to her chest, willing her heart to start beating again. " _Harm…,"_ she gasped out.

Harm stood there, still naked, chest heaving, fury and something else in his still nearly black eyes. "Oh, did that hurt? Now you know how it feels."

Suddenly she was back in Paraguay, back at that taxi stand, the 'never' slipping from her lips, all the while trying desperately to maintain her cool marine exterior. Mac had had enough of his attitude, his sarcasm, his insinuations. She had come through probably the worst weeks of her life and all she had really wanted was to be folded into his arms while he told her she was safe and that it was all over. Instead, everything that happened since he burst into that shed, a knight sans armor, had gone oh-so-terribly wrong.

After they destroyed the stinger missiles and Clay had gotten to safety, she had thought, apparently naively, that Harm would tell her that he loved her, was worried about her, and she could just wrap herself in his warmth and sob out all the terror. He would kiss away her tears and hold her until the world righted itself again. Mac would apologize for responding to him with her own sarcasm and barbs and he would forgive her as she would forgive him. None of what she had wanted or expected had occurred, and all the 'Nevers' rolling around in her mind concerning their chances to be together had coalesced into that one epic wrecking ball of ' _NEVER.'_ Its path of destruction tore through any shot they had had as a couple and then didn't stop until their friendship was in ruins as well. At the time she was convinced it was the truth, but she never expected things to go this far. She'd stupidly believed he would still be her friend.

However, she hadn't counted on her careless words hurting him so much that he would become _this._ "Harm, I nev—I didn't mean—I'm sor—"

"You're sorry…you know, I think Clay is the one who should be sorry. The MacKenzie curse has been batting a thousand—but for his sake I hope he just _wishes_ he were dead."

That was it. Any guilt she felt over all of this fled, replaced by unmitigated fury. She bent down, grabbed his pants from her floor and threw them at him. "Get out."

She didn't stop to make sure he was getting dressed, just left him there holding his pants as she stalked out to the living room. She was shaking with rage and wrapped her arms around herself in hopes of regaining some control. A few moments later, Harm emerged from the bedroom, brushing by her to retrieve his shirt from the floor of her living room. He was clearly still agitated judging by his movements as he finished dressing. Leaving his shirt untucked, he paused at the door before opening it and turned around, a vicious smirk curling up his lips.

"Well," he said. "I take it this will ' _never'_ happen again?"

Mac sighed. "You know, Harm? You really are a bastard."

He gave a humorless chuckle as he pulled the door open. He stepped into the hall, looking back at her and giving her that hateful smirk once again. "Please, Sarah, do give my love to Webb."

She made it to the door in three large strides. He still stood there, looking smug and arrogant.

"Fuck you, Harmon Rabb."

"Oh…you've already done _that._ "

Mac slammed the door in his face.

 _End Chapter 10_


	11. Can't Stop

_A/N: So, here is the second chapter I promised you today. Hope it serves to make you all feel a little better about the last one. By the way, though I love a good dose of dead animal, I'm with Harm on the pop tarts..._

 **Delicate**

 **Chapter 11: Can't Stop**

 _1845 Local_

 _Mac's Apartment_

 _Georgetown_

Mac was exhausted. Not that that was altogether unusual these days, but this was a fatigue of a different sort. Last night's tussle with Harm had left her alternately infuriated, devastated, and guilt-ridden. The anger was for obvious reasons, the devastation was due to the knowledge that Harm could be so cruel and cutting, and the guilt was because she had been the one to draw that out of him. Though she had actually slept for a few hours the night before, the swinging between moods had done her in. She had tried to maintain a cool façade at work today, but it was of no use. She was short with the staff, distracted during her meeting with the admiral to discuss JAG business, and, when alone in her office, she had to keep fighting the urge to break down.

She was proud of herself that she succeeded in not succumbing to tears, and even more proud that the anger toward Harm was at least the most prominent of her emotions. She didn't bother to mention to the admiral today that they really could use Harm's help with the Imes cases. She figured if she did that, she and Chegwidden would end up at McMurphy's, sitting at the bar, commiserating over her tonic with a twist and his scotch about Harm and his uncanny ability to piss people off. Personal issues with her CO aside, for the moment she felt she could truly bond with him over this one. She decided Monday was soon enough to bring up the subject of Harm. Hopefully by then she wouldn't still want to throat punch him. _Fat chance, MacKenzie._

The elevator stopped at her floor and she got off, all the while picturing scenarios where she karate chopped Harm in the neck, pummeled him into a giant mass of pudding, kicked him in the nads…the thoughts made her lips turn up into a little smile, but then, there it was…the rapid return to guilt. She wouldn't have the desire to beat him to a bloody pulp if she hadn't messed him up in the first place. Dammit, now she was devastated and had to fight back tears. This was so very… _exhausting._

Deciding to at least bury those feelings for tonight, she stepped into her apartment, grabbed a bottle of water and a Pop-tart for supper— _Mmmmm, S'mores flavor—_ and decided to take a hot bath. Nibbling on the Pop-tart as she got the water going, a memory of Harm riding her about her eating habits rose up unbidden. He always shuddered in disgust whenever she grabbed one of offending pastries to take with her when they had to travel. He also, despite never touching the sweet breakfast temptations himself, was utterly disgusted by the fact that she liked to eat them cold. ' _Aren't you supposed to toast those wretched things?'_ he'd always ask, shuddering. She'd just smile at him sweetly and take a huge bite while he looked like he wanted to gag.

Mac set the Pop-tart down on the sink along with her water. While the tub filled, she shed her uniform, quickly hanging it up, then went back to the bathroom to wash off her makeup. Mac couldn't help pausing to study the darkened circles under her eyes once they no longer had concealer to hide behind. She really needed to get more sleep. How she would accomplish that, she had no idea. The nightmares still came with frustrating regularity, and the thought went through her mind, not for the first time, that she ought to seek professional help. She quickly dismissed the idea, however; she was stubborn, and anyway, it wasn't affecting her work.

The bath finally ready, she set her "supper" on the side of the tub and stepped in, sitting down and sinking deep into the hot, soothing water. As she took another bite of chocolate-marshmallowy goodness, she mused that she really should start eating better, too. Something with protein and not artificially flavored. Ah, well. Tomorrow was another day—she would make sure to get something a tad more healthy then.

She polished off the rest of her treat and sank even lower into the water…and then started to think. About Harm. About Clay. She wished she could just shut her mind off for once. Take a break from all the angst. Maybe she should take some time off, go visit Uncle Matt or go back to Arizona. She could return to Red Rock Mesa and get her head together. _A nice idea, MacKenzie, but the admiral would never let you go now. Besides, you'd never ask him anyway._

She wouldn't simply ask him for vacation time, and to tell him that she needed the time to try to recover from Paraguay and the last seven months was absolutely out of the question. Besides, Paraguay was long over. The admiral would think even less of her if she brought it up again. Of course, he probably couldn't think any less of her. If the Imes debacle hadn't occurred and he didn't need a warm body to review Carolyn's cases, he would have been just as content to have her rotting in a shallow grave in South America. _Now, Sarah, you know that isn't true. Just because you aren't really so important at JAG, he still probably didn't want you to die…_

The water was getting cold so she shrugged off the depressing thoughts and started to drain the tub. She stepped out, toweled off, and slipped on a warm terry robe. It was only 1957, and it seemed pathetic to go to bed so early, so she went out to the living room and turned on the TV. She settled in to watch some home improvement show where the remodeling budgets for most of the houses featured were nearly double her yearly salary. She wished she could fast forward to the end to where the finished product was revealed and skip all the crap in between. Something always went wrong with the renovation. The foundation was shot, the house was full of asbestos, the pool needed a new pump…and then, despite all those _insurmountable_ problems, the results would still be amazing, they would come in under budget, and everyone would oooh and ahhh over the backsplash in the kitchen-which was invariably obnoxious and aggressively ugly.

This current episode was particularly offensive. The host reminded her of Harm, and the sight of the man taking a sledge hammer to a hopefully non-load bearing wall took her back to seeing Harm's loft for the first time, when his refrigerator was a just a cooler stored in a fridge. She remembered later on sitting at the foot of his bed with him, having dinner there because it was the only finished area of the apartment. Their friendship was new then, and it was so wonderfully uncomplicated.

Mac felt the sting of tears in her eyes and that uncomfortable tightness in her throat that always heralded a good cry. She switched off the TV, threw the remote back on the coffee table and flopped back to lay on the couch. She took several deep breaths, getting herself under control. It was time she stopped crying over Harm. He was lost to her, he was an ass, and she didn't want anything more to do with him. _Liar,_ her inner voice sing-songed to her. _Liar!_ She ignored it.

Back under control, she grabbed a book off the end table and started to read. After reading only a few pages, she started to nod off, falling asleep with a fervent plea to the heavens for no nightmares. She was just so tired…

* * *

 _0104 Local_

 _Mac's Apartment_

 _Georgetown_

Mac was startled awake, opening her eyes to her dimly lit apartment. She did not remember being in the throes of another dream, but something had woken her. She flipped on the light next to the couch, and the soft glow gently brightened her living room further. Nothing seemed out of place, her book still rested in her lap, and all she could hear was the sound of a few cars heading down her street. And yet, something definitely felt wrong.

She rose from the couch, figuring she ought to at least sleep in her bed since, try as she might, she couldn't see that anything was amiss. Suddenly she jumped at an insistent banging on her door. _Who the hell could be here at this hour?_ Her only thought was that it was Webb, or maybe… _no._ Suddenly she knew without a doubt that it was Harm. _What was that son of a bitch thinking?_ The pounding came again. And again. Afraid her neighbors were going to wake up and call the cops, she tightened her robe and silently but quickly went to the door. She checked the peephole, confirming what she already knew. She unlocked the door and yanked it open.

Harm stood there, arm poised to start knocking again. " _Harm,"_ she hissed. " _What the hell are you—"_ She broke off when she looked at him, really looked at him.

Harm looked terrible. His eyes were red-rimmed, his countenance pale, and the circles under his eyes rivaled those of any of the walking dead. She grabbed him by the arm and dragged him in, closing and locking the door behind him.

"Harm! What's going on? Why are you here?"

He didn't acknowledge her, just started pacing around her living room looking at it like he'd never been there before.

Mac tried again. "Harm, what's the matter? Are you OK?" She couldn't help the concern for him that welled up in her, despite how mad she still was at him. He was not acting normally, and she was a little bit afraid for him. He paused in front of her window, let out a shaky sigh, and started pacing back toward her. " _Harm!_ Did something happen? Answer me, dammit!"

Harm stopped in the middle of the room, finally looking up at her. He shook his head, opened his mouth as if to say something, then abruptly closed it and shook his head again. He turned back toward the window, shoulders slumping, arms dropping to his sides.

Mac was scared now. She had never seen him like this, not even when they found out about his father. He looked broken. She walked over to him, took hold of his shoulders and turned him toward her. He wouldn't look her in the eye.

"Harm, please. Tell me what's going on. You're scaring me. Tell me so I can help."

He finally spoke. "You _can't,"_ he ground out in a harsh whisper. He tried to turn away from her again, but she held fast.

"Harm. Stop it. Talk to me." Harm still refused to look her in the eye. He clearly hadn't shaved yesterday, and his clothes looked rumpled and slept in. "Have you been drinking?" She couldn't think of any other reason for his odd behavior.

At that Harm did pull away from her grip. "No!" He seemed offended that she would think that. "I'd never—I wouldn't—no," he said again, once again resuming his pacing.

" _Harm..."_ Mac couldn't help the tremor in her voice and to her frustration she felt tears forming her eyes. _"Please…."_ She felt helpless, but once again she grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him around, halting his movements. To her horror, she saw that his eyes had the sheen of tears as well. She moved her hands from his shoulders to his face, holding it in place and forcing him to look at her. " _Tell me!"_ A tear of her own slid down her cheek, and Harm's hand automatically went up and swiped the tear away with the pad of his thumb like he always used to.

"Mac, Sarah, I…I'm sor—I was-I can't, can't…"

"Can't what, Harm?"

"I can't…he turned his eyes upward, once again trying to avoid her gaze.

"Can't what, Harm?" she asked again, her voice now a mere whisper.

"I can't seem to…I can't stay…I just…what I said…I'm sorry," he finally choked out. He dropped his forehead down to hers. "I'm sorry, " he whispered again.

Mac didn't say anything, just wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer. It wasn't a sexual thing; it was comfort. His arms hung limply at his sides and for a few beats he didn't move. Then, oh-so-slowly, his hands went up to rest on her waist for a moment before he finally raised his arms to return the embrace.

" _Maaac…"_ he drew her name out. "I just can't stop. I can't seem to stay away from you," he whispered into her hair.

Mac leaned her upper body a little bit away from him. She looked up into his stormy eyes. She wasn't sure what she saw in there—he still looked distraught, unsure. She did the only thing she could think of to do. She moved her arms so she could once again take his face in her hands. She rose up on her toes and gently touched her lips to his. "Then don't," she breathed into his mouth.

At that, his lips crashed down on hers, his tongue begging entrance to clash with hers. His hands went in between them and she felt him loosening her robe. It fell open and she felt the roughness and warmth of his hands on the bare skin of her stomach. His lips traveled down her jaw to her neck, licking and sucking and kissing frantically. There was a desperation in his touch and Mac felt the urge to comfort him as she would a little boy. Of course, what they were doing was a completely adult activity, and she felt the heady rush of blood to her core. She knew full well she was soaking wet already. She released her hold on him, taking his hand in hers to lead him to the bedroom.

Once they stepped over the threshold of her room she let the robe slide off her and onto the floor before leading Harm to the bed. She bade him to sit down on it as she pushed his bomber jacket off his shoulders and arms until he could shrug the rest of the way out of it. His t-shirt was next, going up and over his head. She unbuttoned his jeans and then slowly lowered the zipper. She saw that he was fully aroused through his boxers, and her fingers slid into the gap of them, pulling his erection free. She gave it a flick of her tongue before tugging his pants and boxers down and off.

He was now completely naked before her and once again she marveled at the beauty of this man. He made to pull her up but she stopped him, her voice low and sultry. She took his cock into her mouth, lowering her lips around it, moving it in and out, taking in more and more of it with each stroke. She gently massaged his balls as his hips bucked up against her face. "Oh god, Mac, Oh my _godddddd!"_

Once she sensed that his release was near, she sat up, kneeling between his legs. She shifted so she could straddle him and took his throbbing shaft in her hand. She hovered over him for a moment before finally guiding him into her, slowly impaling herself on him.

She moved up and down, taking him in deeper and deeper. Finally, he was completely buried in her center, his hips bucking up to match each of her movements. She put her hands on his chest to give herself some leverage, pumping herself up and down and then pulling him completely inside her once again. She then circled her hips, grinding against his pubic bone. It wasn't long before she was close, and she knew he wasn't going to last much longer either. Her strokes became more fevered, and he dug his fingers into her hips as pounded into her harder and harder from below. He finally exploded within her, his seed pouring out of him in steaming jets.

Mac fell against Harm's chest, and he remained inside her. They had come at the same time, and she reveled in her own orgasm as she felt his manhood still spasming inside her.

They lay there for several minutes, until he finally slipped from her body, his essence mixed with her own sexual fluid pouring out of her along with his penis. He rolled her over onto her back, collapsing down beside her. Harm almost instantly fell asleep, and, knowing that he was as exhausted as she was, she reached down and covered them both with a blanket.

Mac sighed. So much for this never happening again. That annoying inner voice of hers wanted to open her yap, wanted to tell her she was weak, that what they were doing was wrong, not healthy, and that she needed to heed her own directive to not let this keep happening. She hushed the voice, knowing that something was going on with Harm beyond the guilt about his recent treatment of her. Since they weren't actually talking, she relied on the only way they were communicating these days. Right or wrong, he was finally calmed and she decided that she could use some comfort and calm as well. She'd let reason return in the morning. For now, she would just snuggle into Harm and let the warmth of his body warm hers.

It did not take long for her to drift off to sleep, and for once, no nightmares stole away the peace of the night.

* * *

 _0502 Local_

 _Mac's Apartment_

 _Georgetown_

Mac came awake slowly, gradually becoming aware that she wasn't alone in her bed. She had been lying on her back, so she turned to her side, taking in the sight of Harm's well-muscled back. She was surprised he was still there. He appeared to be sleeping deeply, his breathing slow and even. He had rolled away from her a bit, lying with his left arm stuffed under the pillow, the other resting below his cheek. His expression was relaxed, and he looked almost as innocent as Little AJ.

Mac felt a rush of warmth go through her, and she couldn't resist reaching out a finger to trace the contours of his ear. She let her finger travel down his cheek, feeling the at least two-day-old stubble. He never stirred, so she grew bolder and let her whole hand travel down his arm. He shivered a bit at that, so she quickly drew her hand away and carefully rose from the bed. She grabbed her running clothes, used the bathroom, dressed, and then stopped again by the bed, coming around to his side. She leaned down and gently ran her fingers through his soft hair, then, knowing she was risking him awakening, got up and headed out the door. Somehow the sure-to-be-awkward moment of facing of Harm after the events of earlier this morning was too much to contemplate. She still wanted to know what had caused him to be so distraught, but she could at least admit to herself that she was too cowardly to wait him out.

Mac stretched and then set out at a brisk pace, deliberately taking a longer route before finally turning down her street. She slowed her run down to a brisk walk, stopping outside her apartment to do a few more stretches to cool down. She avoided looking for one of his vehicles in the parking lot or on the street, and, with some trepidation, she climbed the stairs to her floor. She had left the deadbolt unlocked, instead just turning the lock in the doorknob, so she couldn't tell from that if he was still here or not. She stopped at the kitchen for some water, and then stepped toward the hall to her bedroom. She hesitated, unsure if she was ready for this.

 _Just go down the hall marine! He's either there or he isn't. Nothing's going to change that._

She finally decided to just get it over with, making herself take quick steps to the door. She pushed it open and forced herself to look first toward her bathroom (empty), and then to the bed (also empty). He had left sometime while she was gone.

Relief combined with surprising disappointment filled her. Mac shrugged it off as best she could. She would likely be calling him early next week after talking to the admiral, and she'd try to be find out more then. Now, it was time to get cleaned up and ready herself for the day.

She felt quite refreshed after her shower. An actually good sleep, a good run, and the feel of the hot jets of water loosening her muscles gave her more strength than she'd had in awhile. _Don't forget the great sex, Sarah._ At that thought, she actually blushed. It was great sex. Phenomenal sex. But it was unadvisable sex. Best not to acknowledge it in any way for now.

Mac sat down at her vanity to comb out her hair. She mused that it was about time to get a haircut, not wanting to have to take the time to start putting it up. She decided she'd try to get that done today and was just about to call her regular stylist. He was great, and, knowing her crazy schedule, he told her that he would always do his best to work her in rather than have her cancel when she was suddenly sent out of town for an investigation. She picked up her phone, punched in a few numbers, but was interrupted at the knock on the door.

 _Oh dear._ Had Harm come back? What would he say? Or do? _Dammit._

She went to the door and opened it once again without checking the peephole. Suddenly she found herself wrapped in an embrace, her lips caught in a kiss. He drew back and smiled at her. "Hello, Sarah."

"Hello…Clay."

 _End Chapter 11_


	12. I Know

_A/N: Ok, readers, it's time to rein this thing in and start turning it around. Thanks for the thoughtful reviews! :) I believe I said something about this in another author's note, but you'll notice that Mac continues to be hard on herself. Please know that that is not what I think about her, but what she thinks about herself. I do have experience being the child of an alcoholic—we do tend to be rather rough on ourselves and blame ourselves for things not of our doing or things out of our control. Thankfully, my father stopped drinking, is so much better now, and our relationship is solid. I'm also nicer to myself these days, but those old habits get pretty well ingrained. The character of Mac never got to have the kind of resolution with her father that I had with mine, so I would imagine things would be much worse for her._

 _PS: I have never made tea in my life, so I apologize if I'm way off—I know it involves hot water, usually some little white bags…a teapot, some people put lemon in it, milk…honey? I personally find tea…unpleasant._

 **Delicate**

 **Chapter 12: I Know**

 _0704 Local_

 _Mac's Apartment_

 _Georgetown_

Mac moved nervously about the kitchen, gathering things to make tea for her and Clay. She wished he would have called first; she could have had some time to prepare.

On second thought, it was probably better that he surprised her. She was afraid if she had time to dwell, she'd find a way to avoid him. She sighed. No, she wouldn't have. She had created this mess, and it was up to her to come clean. She didn't think it was necessary to tell him all the gory details, but it was time to acknowledge that she did not feel _that_ kind of love for him. She would have never have done what she did with Harm if she had. She brushed aside the images of a kiss on an admiral's porch that flashed through her mind, trying to ignore the little voice inside telling her that there was a pattern in her behavior.

Of course, not loving Clay as more than a friend was still no excuse for sleeping with Harm. In her mind she could hear the voices of her father and Chris whispering to her from their graves, calling her all those hateful things that she had thought she'd long since put behind her. _Tramp. Slut._ She had never come as close to believing them as she did right at this moment.

The kettle whistled and Mac removed it from the stove, then poured the water into the pot. She added that to the tray she had prepared, took a deep breath, and carried it out to the living room. Clay had settled on her couch; as usual he was impeccably dressed despite the early hour. She sat next to him, and he brought one arm around her shoulders and hugged her to his side. "It's good to see you, Sarah."

"You, too, Clay." And it was. She was happy he was safe, she was glad to have what was now pretty much her only friend back at home, and she did miss him. Knowing their friendship was undoubtedly not long for this world was painful. She busied herself with pouring the water into both their cups, and each chose a tea of their liking.

They let their tea steep, sitting in silence for a few minutes, while Mac gathered up her courage to speak. She was just about to ask him how his mission went when Clay spoke first.

"Are you okay, Sarah? You're so quiet."

"No, I mean yes, I'm fine. I just haven't been sleeping much lately."

"Nightmares, again?" He shifted slightly, turning a bit to better face Mac.

Mac nodded. "Some."

"Have you thought about talking to—"

"No, it's fine, they're getting better." Not entirely true, but as long as she was sleeping some, eating some, and work wasn't suffering, she figured that was good enough.

"If you're sure, Sarah." He sounded skeptical. "By the way, the mission went off without a hitch—we did, well we did something classified, followed by something 'need to know,' and then something…well you get the idea." He grinned at her.

She smiled a bit at his non-description of his most recent success, but it did not quite reach her eyes.

Clay's eyes narrowed fixed on Mac's. "Sarah, spit it out. What's wrong? I'm sorry I wasn't able to call you more. I wanted to, but I was rarely in a place where I could."

Mac shook her head quickly. "Clay…please don't worry about that. I've told you before that I understand. It isn't that."

"So, there _is_ something going on." _Damn his astuteness._

"Clay…"

"It's Harm, isn't it." It wasn't a question.

Mac had been looking down at her hands, but when Clay mentioned Harm, her head snapped up. _"What?"_

Clay had gotten up from the couch and was pacing about the room, much like Harm had earlier this morning. He stopped in front of her.

"You heard me. Harm. Tall guy. Flies jets."

"Clay, it's not what you think."

"And what do I think?"

"You think Harm and I are involved."

"Well, aren't you?"

Mac truly did not know how to answer that, now that the question had been posed to her directly. She didn't say anything for a minute, trying to think of a way to put it that would be factual yet not so painful for Clay. _Face it, there is no way to make this less painful._ She opened her mouth to speak, but Clay interrupted her.

"I guess that answers that." To her surprise, he sat back down next to her on the couch. "So you are involved."

"Clay, Harm and I, it's not…we're not…she made a vague motion in the air with her hand. "But it isn't going to work with you and me."

"Because of Harm."

"Yes…no…really, Clay, it's not in the way you're thinking."

"And again, what am I thinking? That he doesn't deserve you? That he only seems to hurt you?"

Mac shook her head. Clay wasn't entirely wrong in those thoughts…but the fact was she just didn't love him like that and he deserved to be with someone who loved him with her whole heart.

"Clay…you know I love you, too. We've been through a lot together. You are a great friend…"

"But?"

"But I shouldn't have started that kind of relationship with you."

Clay sighed. "No, you shouldn't have."

Mac's shoulders slumped. Tears filled her eyes. "I'm sor—"

" _But…_ I shouldn't have started that kind of relationship with you either. Sarah, I love you, but I always knew I was second to Harm. I had thought…I had _hoped_ that with everything that went on between you two and his subsequent behavior, that maybe you could let him go. But the way you 'casually' ask me about him, the way your whole being relaxes when you find out that he's safe-I knew he still had a hold on you, and yet I still pursued you. Don't get me wrong, I am hurt, I am angry, but I have to take some of the blame here, too." He got up and grabbed his jacket. "I need to go."

"Clay, you aren't responsible for any of this! I'm—" _I'm the one who always does this. Starts a relationship with someone because I can't have what I really want. I did it with Mic, and now with Clay. I truly loved Mic, and I do love Clay, but never the way I should._

"I'm so sorry, Clay."

"I know you are. And I know you didn't mean to hurt me. Sarah, I'm sorry, but I can't stay here any longer. I still value your friendship…but I don't think I can be around you for a while, okay?"

Mac nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek. He was being so damned understanding. She didn't deserve it.

"Dammit, Sarah, stop sitting there looking like everything that's gone wrong in the world from the plague to the rise of communism is your fault. I knew the score—I knew how you felt and still feel about Harm, who is, by the way, the biggest moron to ever walk on this earth."

Her lips quirked up a bit at that…Clay did have a point… "Clay, I'm really not in a relationship with Harm."

"Then he's the biggest moron in the entire universe. And just so you know, obviously I'm not dead, nor do I wish to be. So don't let anyone, and by that, I do mean Harm, tell you any different."

Mac had forgotten she had told him about Harm's twice uttered sentiment.

Clay shrugged into his jacket and put his hand on her doorknob. He paused there, turning back toward her. "Sarah, I am upset right now, and yes, I am mad at you, Harm, the situation, but please don't sit there thinking it's all your fault. We're all adults. We all make our own decisions, we all bear some responsibility in this…I mean, me, probably not as much," he smiled a bit. "But you do not have to accept all the responsibility for this. I'd like to believe by now I know a little about how you think—so get the thought that it's all your fault out of your head right now." He pulled open her door.

She could only nod again. She didn't completely buy into what he was saying, but she appreciated it.

"And Sarah," he said, still poised at the threshold of her apartment. "I don't know what all you know…that stunt that Harm pulled on the Seahawk—all the publicity, his face plastered everywhere…that doesn't fly with the agency. And now, neither does he. Not anymore. We fired him, Sarah. Per my recommendation, I might add. So...I...well, goodbye, Sarah." With that, he left, closing the door behind him.

Mac sat there on the couch, stunned. _"Fired? Was that why Harm was acting the way he did? Or did that just push him over the edge?_ Harm had certainly been in a state this morning and she'd never be able to forget the uncharacteristic and cruel things he said to her that other night.

Mac did have a hard time believing that getting fired from the CIA would upset him that much. Which of course brought it back around to it being her fault. _No, no matter what had happened between us, he still had no right to act that way with me. I need to keep Clay's words in mind with this one. He's being the rational one here._

Harm had said he was sorry, and she truly believed he had meant it, but it was one thing they were going to have to discuss if they ever found themselves heading back toward friendship. She had doubts that that would happen, but if it did, he would have to understand that her trust in him was shaken.

As she rested back on her couch to regain some of her equilibrium, Mac knew she didn't feel any less guilty about either Harm or Clay. She did, however, vow to try to let go of some of it. Clay was right, not everything was her fault…and she needed to find a way to believe that.

But of course, wasn't that all part of being an alcoholic?

She felt guilty about everything.

 _End Chapter 12_


	13. Come Back

_A/N: Here it is, lucky Chapter 13!_

 **Delicate**

 **Chapter 13: Come Back**

 _1128 Local_

 _JAG Headquarters_

 _Falls Church, VA_

Mac took another case file off her stack, pausing to stretch a bit before opening it up. _Ah, Capt. Kirby and Lt. Yorke._ Two marines that had been running a gambling ring _._ It was one of her first cases here, nothing too complicated, and the date on it at least told her that she was almost done reviewing her and Imes' mutual cases. There were still a few cases involving Carolyn and Lt. Singer, and as chief of staff, she had taken it upon herself to review those as well.

She looked up from her work at the silent man sitting across from her in the conference room. His brow was furrowed in concentration as he studied the file in front of him. She noted he still looked like he hadn't been sleeping well, that he was still rather wan in appearance. He hadn't said much since he'd arrived here; she supposed it was a bit uncomfortable for him to be at JAG again and with her, and he just wanted to get through with his task as soon as possible.

Mac thought back over her weekend. After Clay had left her apartment she had sat on her couch for several minutes until she finally indulged in a good cry over the whole mess, then shored herself up and got ready for the day. She secured an appointment with her stylist for that afternoon, and then puttered around her apartment, dusting and tidying until it was time to leave.

As she walked into the salon, she realized she had left home without any makeup on. Normally, that wouldn't have bothered her, but it was going to take more than one night of halfway decent sleep to clear up those darkened circles under her eyes. The weeping hadn't helped either; she was still a bit puffy from that. Of course, Ethan noticed right away.

"Oh, sweetie, you look ghastly!" Her stylist was prone to exaggeration, but the concern on his face was genuine. "Come on back, tell Ethan all about it. And don't you worry, I'll have you walking out of here looking fabulous!" Mac gave him a small but sincere smile as she followed him to his chair.

Ethan actually didn't expect her to say much; he knew she tended to keep things to herself. Instead, he kept up a steady stream of chatter, telling her all the latest gossip running through the salon, which celebrity killed it on the red carpet and which one may as well have worn a garbage bag, and which celebrity had clearly had work done. His keeping to light topics and his deft touch as he cut, fluffed, and styled her hair was soothing, and it was exactly what she needed.

"I tell you, sweetheart, that dress was a nightmare! 'Melon' was a terrible choice for a color. She looked like she'd died and they rolled her corpse in anyway! And don't get me started on her makeup!" Ethan flipped her chair around to the mirror again. "All done! What do you think? Fabulous!"

It was indeed fabulous, as always. Ethan refused to let her leave without letting him put some makeup on her, free of charge, and his expert application combined with her new cut made her feel beautiful for the first time in a while. She thanked him, gave him a hefty tip, and, in a way that was somewhat unlike her, put her arms around him in a hug. He squeezed her tightly to him before pushing her back a bit by her shoulders.

"Sweetie, take care of yourself. You're getting too thin—go out today, get something sinful to eat, and go find yourself a dress as beautiful as you are— just because. Something fitting for my absolute favorite client. That's an order!" She smiled at his military reference. He pulled her in for another quick hug, and she left his salon feeling a bit lighter than she did when she came in. She took Ethan's advice, too. After eating something absolutely decadent, she treated herself to a perfectly gorgeous dress with matching, _comfortable,_ shoes.

Sunday passed rather peacefully, and on Monday she finally talked to the Admiral about bringing Harm on board. He was gruff, altogether irritable, but surprisingly rather quick to agree. He even volunteered to call Harm himself. Mac didn't know how well that would go over with Harm, but as she didn't know if she'd really be the better choice at this moment, she didn't protest.

And now it was Wednesday. Harm had come in this morning in a suit and tie, and it was odd to see him here sans uniform, visitor's pass prominently displayed on his lapel. He had been subdued but polite, seemingly eager to get to work. Their interaction was a bit awkward, but their innate professionalism saw them through it.

Mac turned her attention back to her file, reading through it and making a few notes on the pad beside her. After about twenty minutes, she set it all aside and looked up again at Harm. He was still focused studiously on his work, and she took some time to study his face. His hair was regulation navy, he was completely clean-shaven, and, if you ignored the visitor's pass, the blue of his jacket made it easy to imagine he was just sitting there in his service dress blues like it was just a normal day at JAG.

"Something on your mind, Colonel?"

Mac jumped at the sound of his voice. "Uh...no, Harm. I was just going to call it a morning and grab something for lunch in the cafeteria. Did you, um, want to come with?"

He gave her one of his half smiles and shook his head. "Nah, I have to leave early—I have somewhere to be later this afternoon. I'm just going to work through."

"Okay," she said, although as a consultant, he wasn't really beholden to the regular JAG schedule. "Well then, I'll see you in a few." She started to tidy up her work area when Harm reached out his hand to lightly touch her on the wrist.

"Uh, Mac…"

"Yes, Harm?" He seemed nervous.

"Um…Is that a new haircut?"

"Yeah, I got it on Saturday."

"I like it. Ethan?" She had regaled him with tales of her beloved stylist in the past.

"Of course," she smiled softly.

"It looks good." Mac nodded her thanks and stood up from her chair. Harm rose with her. "Uh, Mac…Sarah? About—"

Harm was cut off by Bud bursting into the room. "Commander! It's good to see you. I had to go to Norfolk this morning for an interview, so I missed you when you came in. Welcome back!" Bud cringed at his words. Obviously, Harm wasn't really 'back.'

Harm smiled good naturedly, though. "Thanks, Bud. But it's Harm. I'm not a commander anymore."

"Sorry, sir, uh, Harm. Force of habit, you know?" Bud chuckled a bit, no longer seeming so embarrassed.

"I know, Bud. It's a bit hard for me to remember sometimes, too."

"Hey, Harm, did you want to grab some lunch with me? I'm just going to the cafeteria. You, too, Colonel."

Mac just shook her head. "I've got something with me." _Yeah, a half-eaten protein bar in your desk._ She ignored the questioning look Harm threw at her.

"Actually, Bud, I'm working through lunch. I can't stay too late tonight and there's still a lot of cases yet to go through. But, thank you, anyway."

Bud looked disappointed, but he quickly recovered. "OK Com—Harm." He grinned sheepishly. "We'll have to have you over sometime. Little AJ would love to see you and of course Harriet and I would as well, although I suppose we've both already seen you now."

"Sure, Bud."

Bud's grin widened. "Great! Well, I suppose I should go get some lunch. See you later!"

With that, Bud was gone, leaving just Harm and Mac standing awkwardly across from one another. "Well…I suppose I should go too. I may take a walk. It's nice out; I suppose there won't be too many nice days left." It was October, and the mornings were starting to have a little nip in them.

"Okay, Mac. Have a good lunch." He still looked a bit confused, probably because earlier she had told him she was going to have something from the cafeteria. Rather than explain, Mac took her opportunity to exit the conference room, feeling Harm's eyes on her back as she left.

Mac returned from lunch exactly fifty-six minutes later. She had indeed gone for a walk, forgoing the stale protein bar. Harm looked up from a file and gave her a half-smile again before turning back to his work, while she sat down across from him and started on her own file. They continued to work in silence save for a few interruptions from JAG staff. They all wanted to reconnect with their favorite former naval commander, and he obliged, chatting and smiling with each of them. Mac just did her best to fade into the background, not wanting to intrude. A few times, Harm tried to include her, but she only murmured a few short responses and went back to her work.

Petty Officer Coates had just left after bringing them both coffee and pausing to tell Harm how glad they all were to see him, when Harm leaned over to touch her on her sleeve. "Sorry about that." Jen's greeting to Harm led to her telling him an amusing tale about one of her roommates. They both had a good chuckle, exchanged a few more words, and then Jen left. Harm looked a bit embarrassed. "I know we've had a lot of interruptions."

"It's okay, Harm. They're just happy to see you."

"Yeah, I guess…hopefully it'll slow down for a while."

Mac put down her pen. "Harm, it's really no problem. And it isn't your doing anyway." He still looked uncomfortable, but he nodded and turned back to his notes. They worked silently without further interruptions until 1530.

Harm closed the file he was working on. "Well, I'd better get going. I'll see you tomorrow, Mac." He capped his pen and stood up, rolling his shoulders and stretching a bit.

Harm grabbed the briefcase he had brought in with him, opened it, and pulled out a folded piece of paper. "Good night, Mac." As he left, he dropped the paper in front of her and was gone before she could even return his goodbye.

Mac gingerly picked it up, noting the 'Mac' written on it in his familiar scrawl. She unfolded it carefully; a quick scan told her he'd written her a letter. Her heart sped up a bit with apprehension, and she considered saving it for later to be read at home. Then she decided that there was no way she'd get any more work done if that note just sat there taunting her. She smoothed out the folds in it and began to read.

* * *

 _Dear Sarah,_

 _First let me apologize for not speaking to you in person. I didn't want another day to go by before I said what I have to say, and I don't think we're going to get a chance to be completely alone today to talk without interruption. I doubt you want to be alone with me, anyway, and for that I know I can't blame you._

 _Sarah, I am sorry—so, so sorry—for everything I've said and done to you. Not just in the last couple of months, but for this whole last year. I have not confided in you as I should have, I behaved horribly to you when you were a judge, and I have said and done things that were deliberately designed to hurt you._

 _However, it is the last couple of months and especially the last week that I regret the most._

 _Sarah, what I said and did that night was unforgivable. I have no words, no excuses that can ever justify it. I will carry the guilt with me for the rest of my life, and that is no less than I deserve. I would have beaten someone within an inch of his life if I knew he had said the same to you; the fact that it was me, your supposed best friend, who said them makes this all the more horrifying. I will never forgive myself._

 _I feel I have become someone I don't even recognize. This past year has eaten away at me. I've lost a brother for all intents and purposes, nearly been convicted of murder, I've lost my job, and I have lost you. I grieve losing you more than anything, and I know I have brought it all on myself._

 _I was fired from the CIA last Thursday, essentially by Webb, and it was just one more thing to blame him for, even though again, it was all my own doing. I was left with absolutely nothing, and that night and the next were the lowest I've ever been, even lower than when I had my ramp strike._

 _I meant it when I said I couldn't seem to stay away from you. When I kissed you in Rooster's that night, I think I lost all reason. I knew you were with Webb, I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I was finally exactly where I wanted to be. No matter how hard I tried to leave you alone, I found myself back at your door._

 _I won't lie to you, what I feel for Webb is the closest I've ever come to hating someone. He nearly caused your death, he's cost me two jobs, and he has you. Yes, I am a jealous bastard; I can't lie about that either. The fact that he protected you from torture is probably the only reason I don't outright hate him._

 _I'm really not sorry to be gone from the CIA, though, despite my anger toward Webb for it. I wasn't 'just' a pilot for the CIA, Mac. I have seen and done things that will haunt me until the day I die. Things that had to be done, but things that no one should ever be asked to do. I think I've lost part of my soul. When I came to you last week, what I really wanted to do was fall into your arms and cry. Yup, this big bad fighter jock just wanted to cry it out like a little boy. Pride prevented that, and instead all my anger, jealousy, and yes, despair, came out in the form of the monster who showed up at your door._

 _I tell you all this to let you know what I was feeling, not to offer it as an excuse. I won't ask for your forgiveness. It would be hypocritical to ask that of you when I know I'll never be able to forgive myself._

 _I will end this now as you will be back from lunch soon. I am sorrier than I can ever say about what's happened between us. I'd give anything to go back in time and change it all._ _Anything_ _and_ _everything_ _, Sarah._

 _H_

* * *

Mac set the letter down with a shaky hand. It was a lot to process and she didn't know quite how to react. It was more than she'd expected from him, but she was afraid to trust it completely. The cynical part of her, the part of her that had been hurt over and over since she was a child, feared manipulation. The rest of her wanted to forgive him; indeed, it probably already had. But no doubt something had broken between them, and it would take much to fix it. And was it even worth it?

Her brain said, 'no.' It started to list all the hurts over the years and reasons why she should should just cut her losses. Her heart, however, whose voice was by far the loudest, urged her to give him another chance, to let him be her friend again. Why? Because, despite everything, she still loved him. Maybe that was foolish of her, and maybe she would be hurt again. Maybe the walls she had rebuilt around herself were too strong to tear down again anyway, and maybe her brain was right—she should run and never look back.

After all, she was the woman not ruled by her emotions, the logical and stoic marine. But right now, there was no doubt her heart was running the show. Oh, her heart wasn't totally without caution; it was still wary…but she knew it could never be completely closed off from Harmon Rabb, Jr.

She sighed ruefully. _Ha! Sarah MacKenzie, the woman of the dispassionate plan…_

 _Well, so much for that._

 _End Chapter 13_


	14. Is it Chill

_A/N: Just a brief interlude today, seemed a good place to stop. :) A little anecdote from my real life: This morning I was dreaming that I was lying on the couch with one Harmon Rabb, Jr. in his dress whites. I was running my hand up his leg, and he said, "No petting!" In my 3-year-old daughter's voice. Needless to say, I woke up quickly._

 **Delicate**

 **Chapter 14: Is it Chill**

 _0821 Local_

 _JAG Headquarters_

 _Falls Church, VA_

Mac was already in the JAG conference room when Harm walked in; in all actuality she'd been there before _anyone_ had walked in. She had read and reread his letter until she nearly had it memorized, and she still hadn't sorted out all her thoughts and emotions. Last night she'd tossed and turned until she finally fell asleep around 0030 only to be awake again at 0402. Running on only three hours of sleep wasn't overly unusual for her; she knew could make it through the day even if she felt less than fresh doing it. After she arrived at JAG, she'd worked in her office for awhile, finalizing a couple of reports, then moved to the conference room to finish up her last case file involving her and Imes, and then it was on to Lt Singer's pile.

"Sorry I'm late. I, uh, overslept." In truth it looked like Harm hadn't slept at all, his eyes a bit bloodshot with fatigue, the faint lines at the corners of his eyes and on his forehead a little deeper than usual. He dropped into the seat across from hers and set aside his briefcase. He then pulled a file from his stack and opened it, quickly thumbing through it before opening it again to the first page.

"No problem, Harm." Mac turned back to her work. She wasn't sure if she should bring up the letter or let him do it or just pretend it never happened. They both focused on their own tasks for twenty-two minutes before Harm finally spoke again.

"You, ah, got my letter?" He never looked up from the file in front of him.

"I did."

"You read it?"

"Yes."

He was silent again for a several seconds, then finally looked up at her. "I meant it, you know. All of it."

She studied him for a minute before reaching out and lightly squeezing his hand. "I know."

His other hand came up to briefly grip her hand resting on his. "Okay." They both went back to their respective files. It wasn't much of a discussion, but it was acknowledged, and it was enough for now.

Mac let another seventeen minutes, thirty-one seconds go by before speaking again. "Harm?"

"Yeah, Mac?"

"Did you…did you say anything to Clay about…" She waved her hand vaguely in between them.

He shook his head. "No…I wouldn't do that." He immediately looked back down, a slight blush tinting his face. He'd obviously done a few things lately that he formerly wouldn't have done.

"Okay." She did believe him, though, and she returned to her work as he did the same.

So…it seemed she really was a lot more obvious with Clay than she thought when it came to Harm. She sighed inwardly. Of course she was. No wonder Clay had jumped to Harm so fast on Saturday. Mac mentally buried her face in her hands. Everything always came back to Harm and that 'thing' between them. She sighed again.

"Mac? You okay?"

Ugh. Apparently that sigh was out loud. She needed a break for a moment. "I'm fine," she said, and abruptly stood. "I'm going for coffee. You want some?"

He shook his head, motioning to the nearly full cup in front of him.

"Right…I'll be back in a few." She exited the conference room, sure that once again Harm's eyes were boring into her back.

Mac was adding sugar to her coffee when, to her utmost annoyance, Admiral Chegwidden came in for a cup as well. She quickly tossed the sugar wrapper and decided to skip adding her usual second pack. She picked up her mug and gave the admiral a brief nod. "Admiral." She turned toward the door.

"Colonel? A moment, please?" _Dammit._

"Yes, sir?"

"How are things going with Com—ah, with Rabb?"

 _Ha, so he had a hard time remembering Harm wasn't with the navy anymore, too._ "Just fine, sir." _Please let that be it…_

No such luck. "We're getting a bit backed up, here, aren't we." It wasn't a question.

 _But at least this was business._ "Yes, sir, we are."

"We're terribly short on senior attorneys."

 _And why, exactly, is that, Admiral?_ "Yes, sir."

"Well, I suppose I should let you get back to it. Uh, dismissed."

"Yes, sir." _Finally._

"Wait, Colonel."

 _Oh, for fu—_

"Rabb in the conference room?"

"Yes, sir." She wondered how many times she could say that phrase in one discussion.

"I'll walk with you. Haven't had the chance to give him my regards, yet."

 _Shit. Shit, shit, shit._ "Uh…" _Oh, why the hell not._ "Yes, sir."

The admiral looked at her a little strangely, but only motioned her on ahead of him. Together they walked down the hall, Mac wondering how awkward this all could get.

Pretty awkward, as it turned out. As soon as he saw the admiral walking in behind her, Harm stood up from his chair, almost at attention. He remembered who he was at the last second, his shoulders dropping a bit, but military protocol was too ingrained in him to completely relax.

The admiral, too, couldn't help the 'as you were' from slipping from his mouth; Mac would have giggled a bit if what had brought on this situation wasn't so painful.

Harm remained standing as the admiral held out his hand. After a few beats, Harm accepted the proffered handshake.

"How've you been, Harm?" _Well, that was certainly a loaded question._

"Just fine…AJ."

"Anything you need?"

"No, between Colonel MacKenzie, Lieutenant Sims, and Petty Officer Coates, I'm pretty well set up."

"CIA treating you well?"

 _Oh lord._

"I was recently let go from there, AJ."

Surprise registered on the admiral's face. How was it possible that he didn't know?

"I'm sorry to hear that, Harm."

 _Really?_

"I'm not, AJ."

"Ah…have you been to see your folks lately?" This was getting excruciating.

"Not recently."

Mac unconsciously shifted her weight between her feet. Although she wasn't directly involved in this conversation, she was starting to feel like she always did when she found herself forced to engage in small talk with the admiral. She clasped her hands together in front of her to still the slight shaking that had developed. _How much longer could this go on?_

"I see," the admiral said inanely. "Well, I will let you both get back to work. Good to see you again, Harm."

 _Like hell._

"Likewise."

 _Right, and Harm thought Beltway Burgers were part of a well-balanced diet._

The admiral turned to go, and Mac straightened her posture as he passed. The admiral nodded at her. "Colonel, Harm." He looked briefly over his shoulder at the former commander.

"Sir," they both answered at the same time. Harm smiled ruefully at Mac behind the admiral's back, and she, still tense from the exceedingly painful exchange, could only quirk up one side of her mouth in a pale imitation of a smile. She moved to sit back down, still trying to quiet the tremor in her hand as she reached for her pen.

"Well, that was awkward."

Mac started at the sound of Harm's voice. The pen she was holding leapt from her hand, flying across the table and landing somewhere behind Harm. In her haste to get up and chase it down, she nearly tipped over her coffee. She managed to save it, but some of the hot liquid spilled around it and on her hand. "Dammit!"

Harm's hand lightly touched her arm and then quickly withdrew. "Steady, Marine. I got it." He handed her his handkerchief to mop up the coffee while he retrieved her pen.

"Sorry about that," she said, once everything had settled down again.

"Everything alright, Mac?" He was looking at her with obvious concern.

"Yes, of course, why wouldn't it be?"

 _Why wouldn't it be, indeed?_

 _End Chapter 14_


	15. Is it Cool

_A/N: Woohoo! Another chapter! I worked on this today when I should have been folding laundry and packing for my upcoming trip to Montana. Oh well. Don't leave until Tuesday, anyway. So, this is my longest chapter yet. Hope it meets with your approval. I threw in a little homage to one of my favorite shows, Star Trek. Bud and I have that in common…And, BTW, the salad mentioned later is a real thing…and I LOATHE it._

 **Delicate**

 **Chapter 15: Is it Cool**

 _1538 Local_

 _JAG Headquarters_

 _Falls Church, VA_

"Hey, you're back." Harm stood up and smiled at Mac, taking her briefcase out of her hands and setting it on the table for her.

Mac had been in and out of JAG the last few days; Sturgis had been sent out to the _Patrick Henry_ for an investigation, Bud had his own cases to deal with, and she'd had to pick up some of the slack as far as interviews and the like. She decided to take some time this afternoon to try to make a dent in the Singer/Imes case reviews. Looking at the pile in front of her, it was clear they weren't reviewing themselves.

It looked like Harm was making some progress; his pile had diminished considerably since he started. It was Friday, and he'd now been there for almost a week and a half. By the look of it he would be done by next Tuesday or Wednesday at the latest.

Mac wasn't sure how she felt about Harm leaving again. They hadn't had an opportunity to really talk, not that they had ever been all that successful in that arena before. However, if they were ever to be friends again, they would have to. She was also concerned about him—he still looked a bit pale and fatigued, and, ever since he had told her in his letter that his duties with the CIA included more than just flying, she wondered if his sleep was as plagued by nightmares as hers.

She was frustrated, too. She couldn't help her body's response to his nearness. He'd walk by and the familiar scent of him would make her stomach flip. She'd catch herself surreptitiously studying him as he absently chewed on the end of his pen while he worked, and then remember how that mouth felt on hers. Of course, these thoughts invariably led her to think about that awful night after he got fired. Her hurt, her anger…yes, they really needed to talk, and that might be better accomplished if he wasn't here working with her. But if he wasn't here… _oh, damn, this was all so complicated._

"How's your case going?" Harm's voice cut through her reverie.

"It's going. The interviews went fine, Sturgis' notes were informative, but I'm going to have to tell him I disagree with his defense strategy."

"Ouch. Well, that oughta go over well." Harm chuckled lightly, and Mac joined him. The dignified Commander Turner would not be amused.

They were both quiet for awhile, each focusing on their own tasks. Once again, Harm broke the silence. "You, ah, have big plans for the weekend?"

She answered him honestly. "No, I'll probably just take some work home with me, do some laundry. Maybe defrost the freezer."

"Clay must be out of town then?"

Mac looked up at him sharply, but there only seemed to be casual curiosity in his expression, none of the sneering arrogance she had seen before. That expression soon morphed into one of embarrassment, though, and his eyes dropped. "I'm sorry, Mac. That's none of my business."

"It's okay, Harm." Truthfully, she had no idea where Clay was.

"How about you?" she asked.

Harm shrugged. "I should probably start looking for another job."

"Any ideas?"

Harm leaned back in his chair. "Well, I suppose there are some law firms around here that would take me. Not sure I'm really interested in private practice, though. I always liked the investigative side of JAG—maybe I could go into the private detective business."

Mac nodded. He would be good at that, although she couldn't really see him staking out in front of an apartment building, hoping to get some incriminating photos of a cheating spouse. Harm went on.

"On the other hand, maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to change it up completely. I've thought about moving to San Diego, running a flight school. Frank knows a guy—he's getting close to retirement and would probably sell off the business to me."

 _What? Harm, move?_ That possibility made her insides churn. Sure, they hadn't been close for a while, but the idea of him moving across an entire continent was painful to contemplate. _Well, if you had any doubt about having feelings for him…_

Mac kept her thoughts to herself and her expression neutral, merely nodding. _Harm couldn't leave Washington!_ But why not? His parents lived in California, and it wasn't like there was much for him here.

 _But, I'm here._

Mac was irritated with herself. Once again, her feelings for Harm betrayed her.

At that moment, Bud came in. "Oh good, Harm. I was hoping to still catch you. It's supposed to be nice this weekend and Harriet and I want to have a little barbecue on Sunday—kind of a last hurrah for the season. Starting around noon. Think you can make it?" He seemed to finally notice Mac. "You too, Colonel, of course."

Harm quickly agreed as Bud looked expectantly between the two of them. Mac hesitated. It would be good to see Little AJ…but it was obvious she was just an afterthought. She found herself shaking her head. "I'm sorry, Bud. I have plans."

Harm's eyes shifted to hers. He had that confused expression on his face again as Bud accepted her response. "That's okay, Colonel. We'll get you at the next one."

"Sure, Bud."

Bud left the room, and Harm focused in on Mac. "Mac…I thought you didn't have anything going on except for laundry, and what was it? Defrosting the freezer?"

"Ummm, I forgot I…." Mac gave up and just looked down at her hands clenched in her lap. She shrugged.

"Mac?"

"I just—I mean, he only asked because I was sitting right here."

"Why would you think that?"

She really didn't want to be talking about this. Harm hadn't been here in months. He had no idea what things were like now. She kept her eyes downcast.

Harm rose from his chair, coming around to stand next to her, leaning against the table as he faced her. "Mac? What's going on?"

"Nothing." _Brilliant response, MacKenzie._ She wouldn't meet his gaze.

He bumped her shoulder with the back of his hand. "Come on, Mac. It's me."

 _Well, that was certainly part of the issue._ "Harm…after you left…well, Bud and Harriet, I mean, we just don't spend that much time together outside of the office."

Harm went around to sit down in the chair next to Mac. "You know, I was over at their house this past weekend—I missed Little AJ's birthday, I'm embarrassed to say. Thought it was time I started making up for avoiding everybody before. I brought him a gift for his 'half-birthday.' He thought that was cool—of course, now I'll have to do it every year, I suppose. Anyway, he kept asking me where 'Auntie Mac' was. Asked his parents if they could get Auntie Mac to come over-I guess he thinks we come as a pair." He smiled ruefully. "He missed you. Harriet told him she missed you too. I think they'd really like you to come on Sunday."

She had no doubt that Little AJ _did_ miss her, and she figured Harm was right about AJ thinking they were a duo. It was the rest of them she was worried about. But, then again, she was tired of feeling guilty about Little AJ. Maybe she could go…

"Come on, Mac. I'll pick you up."

"Okay."

Harm, though, didn't seem to hear her. He had suddenly jumped up from his chair. "Oh, god, Mac. I'm sorry. You probably don't want to—I mean, I doubt you'd want to ride with me after, well…I'm sorry." He paced around nervously.

Mac got up and stepped in front of him. "Harm! I said okay. I'll go. And I would appreciate a ride." Sure, it may be awkward, like so many other things were lately, but she was afraid if left to her own devices, she'd find a way to back out.

Harm's face brightened, and he gave her a smile that almost approached his old flyboy grin. "Great! I'll pick you up at 1130 or so, okay?"

"Okay, Harm. I'll be ready. And now we'd better get back to these files. I think they've started to spontaneously reproduce."

"Like a tribble."

"Like a what?" Mac was confused.

"A tribble, on Star Trek. Bud had it on when I was there. They eat, and then they—well, never mind."

"Right, Harm." His grin turned sheepish.

The two settled down to work.

* * *

 _1132 Local, Sunday_

 _Mac's Apartment_

 _Georgetown_

Mac had just buzzed Harm up. _Not bad, Flyboy. Only two minutes late._ She had no doubt he remembered the code to get into her building but was working extra hard at being the gentleman. She grabbed her jacket and opened the door just as he was about to knock.

"Hey, Mac. You ready?"

"Just have to grab my purse." She noticed he was still hanging back outside her door, looking hesitant. "You can come in, Harm."

Mac searched around her handbag. "Oh, I left it in my room. Be right back." She threw a glance at him over her shoulder. "Harm, seriously. _In._ "

When Mac returned, she found Harm standing awkwardly in the middle of her living room. He was wearing faded blue jeans and a casual button-down shirt, untucked. He looked like he didn't know what to do with his hands, or his feet for that matter. He kept shifting his weight between them.

Mac set her purse down to slip on her jacket and Harm made a move to help her with it like he always used to. He caught himself and let his arms drop. Mac just gave him a reassuring smile as she zipped up the light coat and reclaimed her purse. "Let's go."

They stepped out into the hall and Mac locked her door behind them. "Did you bring the Lexus or the 'vette today?" she asked, trying to make conversation.

"Uh, the Lexus. It's safer. Precious cargo, and all that." He blushed furiously. "Sorry."

Mac just let that pass and together they headed down the hall to her elevator. Her cheeks warmed a bit when she remembered the last time they were in that elevator together. As for Harm, he was definitely looking at anything but her. Once the doors opened up, Harm motioned her ahead of him. She felt his arm hovering behind her. In another time, he would have gently put his hand on the small of her back to guide her. She missed those innocent, gentlemanly, purely 'Harm' actions.

Harm opened her door for her, waiting for her to get settled before he closed it and went around to his side. Soon they were on their way, and Mac found herself getting more and more nervous the closer they got to the Roberts' house.

Her hands clenched and unclenched in her lap, her fingers tapped on her thighs and brushed at imaginary pieces of lint. Finally, Harm reached over and rested his hand over both of hers, stilling their movements.

"Relax, Mac."

 _Easy for him to say._ "I—well, they're not expecting me. They'll be short on food— "

Harm pulled back his hand. "Mac, have you ever known Harriet to run out of food?"

She gave him a small smile at that and shook her head. "No."

"It'll be alright, Mac."

"Right."

"After all, they let me back in." He gave her a grin.

"True enough, Harm."

They didn't say anything more until Harm pulled up in front of Bud and Harriet's home. It looked as homey and inviting as always, the leaves on the trees around it turning from green to vivid yellows and reds.

Mac opened her door and started to step out. Suddenly, Harm was there to take her hand and help her from the SUV. He really couldn't help being so chivalrous-he did it without thought and it made him so very endearing. "Thanks, Harm." He led her up the walk to the front door, hand once again hovering over the small of her back. They climbed the few steps to the porch and Harm reached across to ring the doorbell. Mac hung back, wishing she could just fade into the shrubbery surrounding the front walk.

Harriet answered the door, towel over her shoulder, Baby Jimmy on one hip. Her pretty face lit up into a smile. "Com—I mean, Harm! So glad you could make it!" Harm thanked her and stepped aside, revealing Mac behind him. Harriet's smile widened into one of joy. "Colonel!" She handed Jimmy over to Harm rather unceremoniously and held out her arms to the other woman. Mac found herself pulled into a tight embrace. She stiffened for a moment, but then gave in and let herself just enjoy being held by the motherly Harriet. Harriet leaned back after several seconds. "It's so good to see you!" She looked meaningfully into Mac's eyes. "I'm so sorry we haven't had you over more." And Mac knew she was sorry for more than just not having her by recently. She felt her eyes tearing up as she pulled Harriet close again.

"That's okay," she said, doing her best to get herself back under control. Harriet stepped away and linked an arm through Mac's. She led them through the house to the backdoor, and Harm, still holding Jimmy, reached forward and lightly squeezed Mac's shoulder as if to say, "See, I told you it would be alright." She tossed a smile back at him in acknowledgement.

Soon, Mac found herself sitting with Harriet on a blanket, holding Jimmy and filling her in on her latest visit with Ethan, the dress and shoes she had just bought, and in general just enjoying another woman's company. Little AJ volleyed between her and Harm, so excited that both of his godparents were there at once. Harm and Bud were at the grill, doing the manly task of flipping burgers (a veggie burger in Harm's case) and admiring their work. A neighbor of the Roberts joined them, bringing along his son who looked to be about AJ's age. Soon the two boys were running around and shouting and in general having a grand time. Jen and Sturgis arrived as well, the latter having just returned from the _Patrick Henry_ last night. Jen came over and sat with the other two women and tickled Jimmy who was still on Mac's lap. Mac was content, and she was glad that Harm had talked her into coming. She let herself relax.

Fifteen minutes later, Harriet had gotten up to start bringing out the rest of the food from the kitchen. Mac handed Jimmy off to Jen so she could help, and soon the two women were loading up the table with all sorts of edible goodness. Harm was right, Harriet would never be short on food. She caught Harm's eye from across the yard, and he smiled at her. He finally looked relaxed as well. Yes, it was good to be back here among friends.

Mac was carrying out the last salad when she heard Little AJ give a joyful shout. "Unca AJ!" Sure enough, there was the admiral, coming through the gate into the Roberts' back yard. He closed the gate just in time to catch the young boy who had hurtled toward him.

"Admiral! Welcome!" Bud had just finished loading the last burger onto a huge platter. The admiral, with Little AJ in his arms, joined him, and soon they were both headed toward the table where Mac stood. Mac quickly set her salad down, nearly dropping it in her haste to get away. She also nearly ran into Harriet who had been walking up behind her with some buns. Mac quickly apologized and brushed past her, heading back into the house and finding herself in the little bathroom off the entryway.

Mac took several deep breaths and splashed some cool water on her flushed face. This was getting ridiculous. She couldn't keep reacting to the admiral this way. It had ruined a perfectly nice afternoon, and she was sure everyone out there thought she was crazy given the way she'd practically sprinted back into the house.

Mac dried her face and hands and left the bathroom. She wasn't quite ready to return to the backyard, and her appetite was now gone anyway. She stepped out the front door onto the porch, taking a moment to lean her arms against the railing. Her heart was pounding, and she willed herself to calm down as she looked out onto the street. A few cars lumbered past, but all in all this was a quiet neighborhood.

Mac was furious with herself. If anything, her reactions to the admiral were getting worse instead of better. Soon she wouldn't even be able to discuss JAG business with him without losing it. She whipped around from the railing and sat down hard onto the huge porch swing Harriet had had installed. She rocked it back and forth with her foot, lost in thought.

She was roused by the sound of the screen door opening. "There you are. Food's all ready, Mac." It was Harm, of course. He looked down at her. "You okay?"

Mac cringed inwardly. It seemed Harm had asked her that so many times these last several days. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just needed a little quiet."

"Well, Little AJ and that buddy of his sure can create a racket. You'll come back soon? Food will get cold."

She gave him a slight nod and returned her attention to the street. She heard the screen door fall shut behind him as he went back in, leaving her alone again.

Not six minutes later, though, he was back, a big plate of food in his hands. He handed it to her, taking his veggie burger off the top. He sat next to her on the swing while she surveyed all he had brought her. There was a huge, juicy burger, made up just the way she liked, a sampling of every salad (except the cottage cheese/Jell-O mix/Cool Whip abomination that he knew she hated), and a couple of the chewy chocolate chip cookies that Harriet was famous for. Her mouth started to water in spite of herself, the heavenly smell of dead animal wafting up and returning her appetite to her.

"What's all this for?" she asked, raising the burger to her lips. She nearly moaned in pleasure at the first bite.

"I thought I could use some quiet, too." He turned just his eyes toward her, grinning a little. "But I didn't want to eat alone."

"I see. Well, thank you."

"You're welcome."

They ate together in companionable silence for a while, until she heard Harm sigh a bit and felt his body shift toward her. The swing swayed back and forth under them.

Mac set down what was left of her burger and waited for Harm to speak. Something was obviously on his mind, but she didn't think he was about to bring up his letter and the confessions therein.

"Mac, what's wrong?"

Mac kept her eyes down at the plate in her lap. "Wrong? Nothing's wrong."

"Maaaaac…"

Mac slid the plate off of her onto the empty space next to her and started to rise. Harm's hand caught her wrist to stop her but then must have realized what he was doing. He let her wrist go as if it were on fire. Mac continued to debate fleeing for a while before she finally sighed deeply and leaned back into the swing. "Harm…there's nothing—"

"Come on Mac. I've been back at JAG for over a week. We've been together for quite a bit of that time. I know things between us aren't great, but you seem to be avoiding everyone else, too. Why?"

"I'm not avoiding anyone, Harm," she lied. He gave her a "you're not fooling anyone" look. "I'm not!" she continued to protest, wondering why she bothered. It was clear he didn't buy it.

"Mac, you've turned down lunch invitations to the cafeteria, right after telling me you were on your way there."

"Just that one time."

"That I know of. And when Sturgis asked us both to go to that deli you like—you ran off into your office, saying you'd brought a sandwich."

Mac huffed with exasperation. "I did bring a sandwich."

"Mac, before, you could have brought an entire Christmas dinner in your briefcase and you still wouldn't pass up a chance to go to that place. And I promise you, it's still just as good as it always was."

"I'm trying to eat healthier."

"That's another thing. This is the most I've seen you eat in the last two weeks. You've lost weight—I could tell when—" He broke off, obviously embarrassed, the blush creeping up his neck to his cheeks.

"Well, I could say the same for you," she retorted back.

"We're not talking about me."

Mac just snorted. Maybe he didn't know it, but it seemed everything wound its way back to him eventually.

"Besides, I've been lifting more, working out."

 _Good god, the male ego._

"Yeah, I noticed that, too." _Maybe if she complimented his manliness, he'd just drop the subject._

No such luck. "I'm serious, Mac. What's going on? And what's with you and the admiral?"

She definitely didn't want to go there. She decided to throw him a bone and answer his earlier question about her avoidance of the others.

"Harm, after you left, after the admiral didn't let you come back, everyone was pretty upset. They, ah, they blamed me for it."

"Well, that's crazy."

"Is it? Again, why, exactly, did you quit your job? I seem to recall it had something to do with me being missing in Paraguay and you not being allowed to go after me. I'd say that pretty much makes it my fault." Mac was starting to get a little worked up.

"But that was still my choice. You were right about that. I always knew there was a chance Chegwidden wouldn't let me back in. And you were—well, you were worth the risk."

 _Was she, really?_ "Harm—I know I never really thanked you for that. I'm sorry."

He waved her apology away. "You survived. That's thanks enough."

Neither said anything for a while. "I'd do it again, you know."

"What?"

"Give up 'everything,' go down there, save you, lose you. I'd do it. All of it. Again."

Mac sighed heavily. "Harm, you haven't lost me."

Harm didn't say anything to that, just reached down and squeezed her fingers briefly before letting go again.

Harm continued on with his earlier line of questioning. "So, they blamed you for my leaving. Doesn't seem like that now—they were all happy to see you here."

"They're just being nice."

"I don't think Harriet was just being nice today. "

No, Harriet wasn't just being nice. Mac knew that. But it was still hard to accept affection and trust it from these people who had frozen her out for so long. It seemed easier at this point to not let them back in. It would prevent any future hurt. "It's just hard to try to go back to the way it was before. I don't trust—"

"I'm sorry."

Mac looked over at him. "It's not your fault."

"I feel like a lot of it is."

"Dammit, Harm." Mac was more tired than angry. "Why in hell would it be your fault?"

"I don't know. I guess—well, it seems like they acted that way because of me." He seemed so sad that Mac had to work to resist putting her arm around him.

"What happened, happened, Harm. Maybe we should both just let that go."

"I guess…but what about the admiral?" _Dammit._ He wasn't going to let that go.

"Harm, please…I think that's enough for one day."

Harm obviously wanted to say more, but to her relief he just nodded.

Suddenly Mac was exhausted. Her anxiety about this day and her talk with Harm were tiring, and last night she'd had a doozy of a nightmare, one that had her turning on every light in the apartment and starting the fireplace even though it was a fairly warm night. She, however, was ice cold after that and no matter how many blankets she threw over herself, she couldn't seem to get warm. Mac had had to change her bedding yet again this morning—she would nearly always sweat profusely when she dreamt, soaking through her sheets and shivering as the sweat evaporated off her body. Her visits to the laundry room had definitely increased, and she had taken to sleeping in the nude, just so she wouldn't have to change into a new nightgown every night.

"Harm?"

"Yeah, Mac?"

"Can we go? I'm really tired. I mean, if you want to stay, I'll just call a cab. In fact, why don't I just do that."

"Mac, you are not calling a cab. I'm tired too. I'll take you home, okay?"

"You don't—"

"Mac! I. Am. Taking. You. Home…okay?" He smiled to soften his tone.

Her lips turned up a bit. "Okay."

He handed her his keys. "Why don't you head to the car and I'll take care of this and say our goodbyes." He picked up her plate, removing the two chocolate chip cookies from it and handing them to her. "Here, you'll want these for later." He winked at her. She rolled her eyes at him but took the cookies anyway. They were little bits of heaven, after all.

Mac waited in Harm's SUV for a good thirteen minutes before Harm finally came out of the house again. She noticed he had her purse, and she was grateful he had saved her from the awkwardness of having to retrieve it later.

"Sorry it took so long. The admiral cornered me for a minute."

"Don't you mean thirteen minutes, eleven seconds?"

"Well, I wasn't just talking to him, Mac."

"I suppose not. What did Bud and Harriet say?"

"Nothing much, just that they'd see us both at work tomorrow."

Mac rested her head against the window as Harm started the vehicle and pulled out into the street. She soon found herself dozing off and didn't wake up until Harm had stopped at her apartment. He had come around to her side and opened the door, gently shaking her on the shoulder. "Wake up, sleepy head. We're here."

Mac stretched a bit. "Damn, sorry about that. I guess I was really tired." She yawned.

"No problem. Come on, I'll walk you to your door." She slid out from the SUV. It was a rather long drop to the ground, and Harm reached out to steady her. Once at the door to her building, Harm put in the security code and the door unlocked. They headed down to the elevator, Mac pausing to greet her neighbor who had just exited it. Once at her door, Harm stepped back while she unlocked it.

"Did you want to come in for a while?" Mac asked as she pushed the door open.

Harm seemed to choke on his own spit at that moment. Mac choked back a giggle. Despite the seriousness of their situation, there was also an element of the absurd.

"I meant for some tea or something."

Harm cleared his throat and drummed his fingers on her doorframe before reaching out to touch her cheek briefly. "Nah, I'd better not. I have a lot to get ready for tomorrow."

"Yeah, all those case files with your name on them."

"Well, yes. But I'll have to get my uniform pressed and ready for tomorrow, too."

 _What?!_ "What?" she echoed her own inner voice.

"Oh, yeah. The admiral asked me back today."

"He did? Harm, that's—that's wonderful." She couldn't help herself. She reached out her arms and pulled him into a hug. He squeezed her tightly and dropped his cheek onto her forehead before letting her go.

"And, he told me to tell you to not worry about the Singer/Imes files anymore. He graciously gave them to me to do."

"Oh, lord, Harm, that makes me even happier." She smiled hugely at him.

But Harm's expression grew serious. "Mac? Is this really okay with you? I mean, if it makes you uncomfortable, I'll turn it down. I'm serious."

"Harm, don't you dare do that. Yes, we have a lot to work through, but we need you back at JAG. The whole place has been a clusterfu—I mean, it's been a mess since you've been gone."

"I doubt that; you were still there. So, you're really okay with this? I really would turn it down for you. I'd owe that to you if you—"

" _Harm!_ I am really okay with this. I promise."

"Well if you're sure…"

"Harm, just go home and get that uniform ready, alright?"

He chuckled. "Yeah, Mac. Will do. I will see you tomorrow, okay?"

He turned around to leave, but then turned back. "Mac, if I ask you to lunch tomorrow, you won't turn me down, will you? Even if Bud or Sturgis are there?"

"Harm, as long as you're paying, I won't turn you down."

"Alright, then. Goodnight, Mac. Don't forget to lock the door."

She rolled her eyes at him once again. "Goodnight, Harm."

She watched his back disappearing down the hall for a moment before closing, and, yes, locking the door. She leaned back against it.

 _Harm. Back at JAG._

Things were about to get interesting.

 _End Chapter 15_


	16. Round and 'Round

_A/N: I have enjoyed my vacation, but it is good to be home! Here is another chapter, written as I should have been unpacking and cleaning up my disaster of a house. Oh, well, this was more fun…_

 **Delicate**

 **Chapter 16: 'Round and 'Round**

 _0642 Local_

 _JAG Headquarters_

 _Falls Church, VA_

Mac walked into the bullpen, relieved to find it still quiet. She had just returned from an investigation on the _Seahawk_ at 0330 this morning. Harriet had dropped her off at the airport a week ago and given the obscene hour of her arrival this morning, she had just taken a cab back to her apartment. She had slept fitfully on the plane—it made her nervous to completely fall asleep in public these days given the frequency of nightmares. Most of them were thankfully still not the screaming variety, but she didn't want to risk making a scene. She didn't sleep very well onboard the carrier either for the same reason, but she still stubbornly refused to seek help. She couldn't really say why she was so resistant; there was a part of her that felt she had brought this on herself, thus she needed to deal with it herself. She knew that kind of thinking was illogical, and yet she still couldn't bring herself to make the call for an appointment.

As soon as she got in the door of her apartment, she changed into her running gear and headed out again. It felt good to move and stretch after the long flight, and the cool air of the mid-November morning combined with the physical activity gave her a much-needed boost in energy. She then quickly showered and applied her makeup, focusing the most attention on her undereye area. Once she decided she was passable, she donned her uniform and headed off to JAG. She figured she would get an early start on the paperwork that had surely piled up in her absence.

As she stepped into her office, Mac discovered she wasn't wrong about the paperwork, but there was something else on her desk as well. A bag of M&M's was placed prominently in the middle of her desk with a yellow post-it attached to it. The writing was Harm's, and she couldn't help smiling as she read the short note:

 _Mac,_

 _Heard you were getting home tomorrow. You'll need these M &M's—look at your desk! I've never seen paperwork pile up so fast. Good luck, Marine. _

_H_

Mac ripped opened the package and popped a few of the chocolate candies in her mouth. She had skipped breakfast, or more accurately had forgotten to get breakfast, and this little gift would certainly make up for that. She smiled again as she reread Harm's note, but then sighed as she ate a few more M&M's. _Ah, Harm…_

She and Harm had still not spoken to each other about the events of the last several months, despite Harm being back at JAG for the last four weeks. They missed each other more than they connected; Harm was at first buried in chart reviews and she was caught up in various court cases, then he was sent off for an investigation, followed by her week on the _Seahawk._ When they did manage brief conversations, it was all about work. He was still hesitant and nervous around her, very careful about keeping a respectful distance, making sure he didn't touch her in that casual, friendly way he used to before everything went wrong.

Mac would catch him watching her, though. As soon as he noticed her looking back, he averted his eyes, but not before Mac saw the sadness in them. She had the urge to walk up to him, put her arms around him, and tell him all was forgiven. However, despite the sincerity of his letter, and despite her feelings for him, she was still deeply hurt. She needed to hear the words, spoken face to face, before she could completely let it go. There were a few times when it seemed he was on the verge of starting the conversation. His expression would turn serious, he would swallow a few times and take in a big breath, but then they would invariably be interrupted by someone or one of them would be sent off to the middle of the ocean.

Mac feared the moment to talk about it had passed, and they would now go back to some imitation of friendship, ignore the elephant in the room, and let anger and resentment fester within. She kept herself from being the one to broach the subject; she firmly believed he should be the one to initiate it.

Mac reached for the first item in the stack before her and decided she couldn't possibly do anything without first making some marine-grade coffee. She headed off to the break room, her thoughts once again going to a certain tall and handsome naval commander…only to collide with the man himself. She was peripherally aware of papers flying everywhere as she basically bounced off his hard body. Long arms and strong hands reached out to catch her, saving her from painfully landing on her six.

"Oh, god, Mac. I'm sorry! Are you okay?"

She was a bit dazed yet, surprised that anyone else was here this early, especially Harm—and still a little stunned that she was so close to him. Her insides started to buzz from his nearness, and she felt the adrenaline coursing through her.

"Mac! Are you hurt?" He started to pat her down, looking for injury. She struggled to pull herself out of her stupor.

"No, no. I'm fine. You caught me before I fell on my ass, uh, six." He let go of her then, chuckling a bit.

"You don't have to keep it clean for me, Mac. I know you're a marine—I'll never understand why the expression is 'swearing like a sailor.' Marines are far filthier than we Navy ever could be."

She gave him a weak smile, as usual annoyed that her body betrayed her every time he was within six feet of her. She looked down, finding the two of them surrounded by loose sheets of paper. "Oh, damn, Harm. I'm sorry—your papers...I hope you didn't have all that in any special order."

He waved away her concern. "Nah, I mean, I did work on all of that for hours and now it'll take me at least another three hours to fix it, but that's okay." He must have seen the worried expression on her face because he quickly reassured her that he was just teasing.

They both knelt down to gather up the mess. Once everything was stuffed back into a file folder, Harm helped her back up. His eyes narrowed as he scrutinized her, and she had to force herself to not look away from him. His hand came up, thumb brushing her cheek. "You look tired."

She humphed. "Thanks. That's about the same as telling me I look like shit."

"No, I mean it. Did you sleep at all while you were gone?" He seemed to suddenly realize that his hand was still cupping her cheek. His arm fell to his side and he stepped back a little from her.

"I slept fine."

" _Maaaac…"_

"Well, you know what it's like, sleeping on a carrier."

"I sleep fine on carriers." She rolled her eyes. _Of course he did._

"The flight was a little rough. And long."

"Well, that I do understand. When did you get in?"

"0330."

His eyes widened. "Then why the hell are you here so early?"

"I wondered the same about you. Before seven is just a tad earlier than you usually show up, Flyboy." She felt the blush creeping onto her cheeks at the use of his old nickname. He, however, seemed pleased if the warmth flooding into his eyes was any indication.

"Well, actually, I was here at 0632. And fifteen seconds for you time sensitive folks," he said, proudly.

"Why?"

He shrugged. "Trying to turn over a new leaf. Be a better team player."

She inwardly cringed and turned away at the use of those words spoken so harshly by the admiral all those months before.

Neither spoke for several seconds. She finally felt him step closer to her and she raised her eyes to his. That serious expression was back, and he took a deep breath and lightly touched her shoulder. "Mac…I was wondering…could you come over for dinner on Friday? I'd like to talk, just us, no interruptions. Would that be okay? I'll cook."

Slowly, she nodded. "I would like that."

"Or I could come to your place. Or, maybe we _should_ go out. You probably want something more neutral, rather than either of our places. I don't want to make you uncomfortable. You—" He rambled on.

" _Haarm!"_ she interrupted him with exasperation. "Your place is fine. Seriously. You won't make me uncomfortable. _This,"_ She motioned in between them, "makes me uncomfortable. We need to talk. I want to talk. I—I miss you." The last she said in a near whisper.

He reached down and squeezed her hand, much like he did on the Roberts' porch swing. He let go almost immediately and spoke just as softly. "Oh, Mac. I miss you, too. Um, you don't have other plans?"

She knew he was referring to Clay. She really didn't want to get into that now, so she merely shook her head, watching him as his face lit up just the tiniest bit.

"Okay, then. Friday it is, say, 1900? I've got a new pasta/chicken thing I want to try."

"I'll be there. You want me to bring anything?"

"No, just yourself. Thanks, Mac."

She didn't know what, exactly, he was thanking her for, but she smiled anyway, told him 'you're welcome,'and watched him turn and go back toward the bullpen. She was, of course, already a little nervous about Friday, and as it was only Monday, she had plenty of time to get even more worked up. But it was definitely what she wanted, what they needed, so she vowed to just relax and let Friday happen. Easier said than done, but she would do her best. She couldn't stop the gigantic yawn that suddenly escaped her, so she continued on her mission for marine-worthy coffee.

* * *

 _0902 Local_

 _JAG Headquarters_

 _Falls Church, VA_

Mac took a sip of the sludge in front of her. Strong as it was, the coffee still wasn't enough to keep the fatigue at bay. She managed to stifle a yawn, looking up to see Harm watching her from across the conference room table. He gave her a half-smile in sympathy, which she meekly returned as the admiral walked in and sat at the head of the table.

Without preamble, he asked for reports on current cases and started handing out new ones. Sturgis, sitting next to Harm, got a UA case. Bud sat across from Sturgis, and he got one involving charges of dereliction of duty. The two men were quickly dismissed, leaving only Harm and Mac. He looked at them both over his reading glasses.

"Last night a marine Super Cobra crashed at Miramar. The pilot survived with serious but non-life-threatening injuries, but the gunner died shortly after arriving at the hospital. The pilot claims equipment failure, but the gunner's family has come forward and stated that the gunner, Lieutenant Cahill, had expressed concerns just prior to the accident that the pilot, Captain Books, had an alcohol problem. They are accusing him of being under the influence which then led to the crash. I'm sending you both out there to investigate. I needn't remind you that the powers that be want this resolved quickly and quietly. You fly out of Dulles at 1600 today." He pushed a file in between his two officers. Harm hesitated before pulling the file closer to him when Mac didn't reach for it first.

Mac, for her part, just sat there stunned. She suddenly felt like crying. She was so tired…and to be sent out again immediately after just getting home….

"Is there a problem, Colonel?"

Mac glanced at the admiral and shook her head, embarrassed to be called out like that. Harm looked on, his expression once again sympathetic.

Admiral Chegwidden pulled off his glasses and set them on the table beside him. "Colonel, I know you just got back from the _Seahawk_ , and I'm sorry to have to send you out again so soon, but you two are the best ones to investigate—Harm with his aviation experience, and you being a fellow marine…"

"It's not a problem, sir." _Orders were orders, after all._

"Okay, then. You two leave here by noon to get ready to fly out. Dismissed." They all stood up from the table, the two younger officers standing briefly at attention before turning on their heels and exiting the conference room.

Mac's shoulders slumped as soon as she was out the door. Exhaustion was evident in her posture and she didn't even bother to hide it.

"Hey, Mac. _Are_ you going to be okay with this?" Harm asked, hand hovering above her shoulder for a minute before dropping it back down.

"I guess I'll have to be, won't I?"

"Yeah, I suppose so. I am sorry, though. Hey, tell you what. I'll follow you back to your apartment, you can leave your car there, get packed, and then we'll head to my place to get my stuff, and I'll drive us both to the airport."

The corners of her mouth turned up a bit. "My sea bag is already packed and in my trunk, Harm."

"Ah, of course. How could I forget…you're a marine, always ready. Well, how about you leave your car here and we'll just head to my place then before the airport. Um, if you are okay with that…"

" _Haaaarm!"_ Seriously, his concern and worry about her 'comfort' around him was becoming grating. "Yes, that'll be fine. I'd be glad to not have to drive anywhere." She emphasized that with a yawn.

"Okay, then. Let's clear our desks—although I'm not sure you're going to be able to get that done before we need to leave—I gotta reschedule a few things, too—then we'll head out. Okay?"

"That'll be fine, Harm. You're right about all the crap on my desk. Thanks for the M&M's, by the way. They'll help a lot."

He gave her a brilliant smile. "You are most welcome, Marine. And, say—rather than stay in some closet in the VOQ at Miramar, how about staying somewhere much, much more comfortable? Ocean front, beautiful scenery, excellent hosts? I've got connections in San Diego, you know."

He was clearly talking about his parents. Mac hesitated a moment. She'd met his mother briefly a few years ago on another investigation. That was pre-Mic, pre-Renee. Harm hadn't yet crashed into the Atlantic, and more importantly, Harm hadn't yet thrown away his naval career to save her in Paraguay. She was very nice, but Mac had to wonder what Harm had told his mother about her in the intervening years. She was sure none of it was good…she had to ask… "Uh, Harm?"

"Yes?"

"Um, what have you, ah, what have you told them about…" She was embarrassed to be bringing this up.

"About?"

"Um, about…me?" She looked down at her shoes, cursing the blush that was lighting up her cheeks.

"About you?" He seemed confused.

"Yeah, you know, about…Paraguay." _There, she said it._

His expression turned sad and somewhat regretful. "Mac, I really haven't told them anything about that other than we got you back safe. Mom was upset about me giving up the navy, but she understood. She was relieved you were okay. And, to be honest, since I started with the CIA, I haven't spoken to my folks much at all. I'd like to change that…I've avoided them just like I avoided everyone else here. I know it hurt my mom especially. I need to make up for that, somehow. If you want to stay at a hotel or the VOQ, I'd understand, but I'm going to stay in La Jolla with Mom and Frank. They would love to have you, too. I know it."

Mac was still slow to agree. She feared it would still be awkward on one hand, but on the other…to be able to sleep in a real bed, the sounds of the ocean lulling her to sleep…it sounded like heaven. She decided to allow herself this indulgence. "Okay, Harm. I'd love to stay with your parents."

With that, his flyboy grin was back. "Great! I'll give them a call. Let me know when you are ready to leave here, alright?"

"Sure, Harm." They both headed off to their respective offices, Mac intent on getting as much done as possible before they left for San Diego.

* * *

 _1134 Local_

 _JAG Headquarters_

 _Falls Church, VA_

Mac looked up at a knock on her doorframe. She had started leaving her office door open again and did her best to be welcoming when her coworkers came by. She was still slow to trust them and their intentions, but she was working to overcome that. It was rather interesting to her to note that of all the people in the office now, and despite everything that had gone on between them, she still felt most comfortable around Harm. Mac motioned her visitor into her office. "Hi, Harriet. What can I do for you?"

"Oh, nothing, Ma'am. I was just coming to ask you something. Thanksgiving is next week; Bud and I were wondering if you'd like to have dinner with us. Turkey, stuffing, all the trimmings? My parents will be there, too, along with Big Bud…" Harriet smirked a little at that. Big Bud certainly added flavor to any holiday gathering… "And of course, Mikey. I'm going to ask Commander Rabb as well." She looked at Mac expectantly.

Mac took a second to consider Harriet's invitation. She certainly did not have anything else going on. And to see her godsons… She was just about to answer in the affirmative when Harriet spoke again.

"I'm sure you probably already have plans. You and Mr. Webb—"

"Ah, no, Harriet. Clay and I aren't seeing each other anymore. We broke it off last month."

Before Harriet or Mac could say anything else, there was a decidedly male cough—really more of a choking sound—at the door. Mac saw Harm standing behind Harriet. His expression was unreadable, but the lines around his eyes were tight. He cleared his throat, acknowledged Harriet with a nod, and said in a somewhat strangled tone, "You about ready to head out, Mac?"

Mac nodded and stood up. Likely sensing something, Harriet excused herself without waiting any further for Mac's response to her invitation and did not stop to ask Harm over as well. "Yeah, let me just pack up here and we can go."

Harm stood in her doorway, not saying anything. His mouth opened a few times before he finally inhaled deeply and just told her he would be in his office waiting for her. He then turned on his heel and left.

Mac wasn't sure how to read Harm's reaction to the news about Clay. He obviously heard her telling Harriet about the demise of the relationship, and she couldn't tell if he was happy about it, upset that she hadn't told him earlier, or just indifferent. Well, Mac didn't really think he was indifferent. Something in his posture told her otherwise. If she really was pressed to make a guess, she would have to say he seemed to be more on the angry spectrum. But, really, what right did he have to feel that way? Mac sighed. It was going to be a long flight to San Diego, and it wasn't just due to the distance.

 _Well, shit. This should be fun..._

 _End Chapter 16_


	17. These Hands

_A/N: And here is Chapter 17! Once again, I thank everyone for their reviews. Enjoy! Please note, I have never been to Dulles so I have no idea what kind of airport it is now or was in 2003. ;)_

 **Delicate**

 **Chapter 17: These Hands**

 _1445 Local_

 _Dulles International Airport_

 _Dulles, VA_

Mac sat next to Harm in the typically uncomfortable chairs found at airport gates the world over. He had been quiet on the ride to his apartment, then quiet again on the way to the airport and she wondered what he was thinking. His expression remained inscrutable as he sipped the coffee he had picked up after they made it through security. He had offered to get her one too, but her stomach was a bit upset from the 'motor oil' as Harm referred to the coffee she had drunk this morning. It didn't help either that all she'd had to eat today was a package of M&M's and some peanut butter crackers she had gotten from the vending machine at work. She certainly didn't feel like eating anything more, despite her sketchy intake today, however.

Harm had picked up a magazine in addition to the coffee and it was apparently _extremely_ engrossing. She glanced over at the title. _Of course. Aviation History._

Mac decided to review the case file the admiral had presented to them that morning. She really had nothing better to do; she had been an avid reader at one time and usually was in the middle of two or three books at once. Unfortunately, that too had gone by the wayside after Paraguay. She had started and not finished only two or three books in the last six months; she found she couldn't for the most part muster up enough interest in any plot or character from any of her usual favorite authors. They all ended the same anyway. Happy endings, everything all tied up in a neat little package—everybody knew that was all a bunch of crap, so what was the point?

She reached into her bag for the file but then, to her chagrin, remembered it was unfortunately in harm's briefcase. She debated asking him for it, but then decided she didn't want to interrupt him when he obviously was in no mood to talk. She felt him shift in the chair next to her, heard him turn another another page and take another sip of his coffee. She sighed.

"Something the matter, Mac?"

"Of course not," she replied, somewhat irritably.

He set down his magazine and shifted again, this time toward her. "You're pretty quiet."

 _Seriously?!_ She _was the quiet one? What nerve!_ "If you say so."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

 _Oh, great. He was going to actually do it. Pick a fight in the middle of the airport._

"Nothing. Just agreeing with you."

"Yeah, right, Mac. Spill it. What's on your mind?"

"Not a damn thing, Harm." She could feel her ire rising. She was tired, didn't feel all that well, and she certainly did not feel like dealing with an affronted Harm. _Especially_ when she still felt like he had no right to feel that way. "You seem to have a lot on _your_ mind, though."

"I'll ask again: What's that suppose to mean?" Neither of them was speaking much above a whisper, but that didn't mask their irritation with each other.

"I think you know, Harm." Mac turned away from him as much as the hard chair beneath her would allow, realizing as she did so that she had just used a favorite tactic of Harm's. Answer a question with a non-answer, leaving everything still in a vast limbo. She felt his hand on her, and he used it to lightly pull on her arm, trying to turn her back around.

"Mac, come on—" She turned just her head back to him, staring pointedly at the hand still gripping her arm. His face suddenly paled and he swiftly let go of her. "Oh, god, Mac. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—I, I'm sorry." He looked truly horrified.

She let out a deep breath. "Harm, don't worry about it."

"But—"

"I _said_ , 'don't worry about it,' Harm! You're acting like you slapped me or something! For heaven's sake! I am not afraid of you! I am, however, a little annoyed with you right now, so if you'll excuse me, I'm going to the ladies' room to splash a little cold water on my face and calm down. Then, you and I are going to discuss what's eating you ( _as if she didn't know)_ , okay?" She stood up from her seat and looked down at the back of Harm's head. He was slumped dejectedly in his chair, head hung low, but he nodded and waved her away.

Mac turned in search of the bathroom. In truth, she _needed_ to get away. She didn't know if she was about to cry, vomit, or just scream in frustration. Harm could be such a pain in her six and sometimes she just wanted to shake him hard by the shoulders.

* * *

 _1516 Local_

 _Dulles International Airport_

 _Dulles, VA_

Mac came back from the bathroom twenty-two minutes later, feeling a little better, happy that she had neither vomited nor cried. From across the way she saw that Harm was sitting in nearly the same position that she had left him in. She shook her head. Damn, but he could be a bit pathetic at times. She felt a pang of guilt for that observation—she knew he was only trying to make amends for his recent behavior, and she really did appreciate it—even if she did want to wring his neck sometimes.

He looked up as she approached him. "Better?" One corner of his mouth tried to turn up.

"Yeah, I don't want to beat you about the head and neck anymore." Her eyebrow quirked up to let him know she was teasing.

The corner of his mouth gave a better effort at turning into his half smile. She reclaimed her seat next to him. "So, is this plane going to board anytime soon?"

Harm shook his head. "Yeah, about that. We've been delayed for at least another hour to an hour and a half."

"Well, fu—I mean, darn it."

He gave a light chuckle. "Yeah, darn it all anyway."

"So why was it delayed?"

"Our plane apparently was held up at the previous airport due to weather, so everything else is pushed back. But there is a silver lining…"

"Oh, yeah?"

"We'll get there late enough in the day now that we can just head to La Jolla straight away and then get started with the investigation tomorrow."

That _was_ good news. She really didn't think she had it in her to conduct an intelligent interview with anything other than a tree stump. She'd probably end up asking what Captain Books' favorite color was or if he liked walks on the beach. "Thank god," was all she said. But now they'd best discuss what had happened just prior to her trip to the restroom. She lightly touched Harm on the knee. "Harm?"

"Yeah, I know. I could use a bite to eat—let's find somewhere where we can sit down and talk. You have a preference?"

She shook her head. "No, you pick whatever. I'm not very hungry. My stomach's a bit upset."

Harm was instantly in concerned, protective mode. "Why didn't you say anything? Maybe you _should_ stay home. Do we need to get you something?" He started to look around for one of the airport shops that carried drug store items.

"Relax, Harm. It's just a little heartburn. I've already taken something. It just hasn't kicked in yet. I'll get some ginger ale or something."

He just nodded, but if anything, he looked even more worried.

Harm in short order found a small restaurant not far from their gate. It catered to the heath food crowd and soon they were seated comfortably in a booth, Harm sipping on his water and Mac letting her ginger ale, _real_ ginger ale, settle her stomach.

She figured they may as well get a start on their discussion regarding the issue of the day. "Harm— "

But Harm's mind was clearly elsewhere. He was looking away from her, gaze unfocused.

"Harm!"

He still wouldn't look directly at her. "Uh, Mac?"

"Yes?"

"You've been really tired lately."

"Yeah, so?"

"And the heartburn…"

"It happens now and again." _Where was he going with this?_

"Any, ah, nausea?" He squirmed a little in his seat, eyes flicking to hers briefly before looking again at a point over her shoulder.

"A little, why?"

"Since…"

"This morning. Harm, what are you getting at?" She couldn't for the life of her figure out what he was talking about.

"Mac…do you think maybe, I mean is it possible…" Harm was looking more pained by the second.

Mac looked at him expectantly, wishing he'd get to the point.

"Could you be…" He looked meaningfully down her body to some point beneath the table. His voice lowered to a near whisper. _"Pregnant?"_

" _What?!"_

Mac's voice was decidedly _not_ a whisper. Harm frantically made shushing motions at her, looking around as if he expected Admiral Chegwidden to be a part of the wait staff.

"Are you serious?" She was not expecting him to ask about that, though in retrospect she should have realized it was what he was trying to get at.

Harm looked a little nauseated himself, and definitely a little irritated that she doubted his sincerity. "Of course I am!"

Suddenly the absurdity of their situation hit her full on and she burst out laughing.

"Mac! _Mac!_ This isn't funny!"

Between giggles Mac tried to speak. "I know, Harm—but the look on your face…" She broke out in more laughter while Harm appeared to become more agitated. She tried to get herself under control again.

"Well, Mac?"

"Well, what?"

"You never answered my question."

"No, Harm, I'm not pregnant."

"It's just that you and I…we never used protection."

 _No, they hadn't, had they._ Mac's previous amusement left her. They had been reckless. Everything they had done had been done with abandon, no caution or sense involved. Absolutely reckless.

"We were reckless," Harm echoed her thoughts. He looked ashamed.

"Yes, we were, Harm. But no, I'm really not pregnant. I'm on the pill, and anyway, it has been…obvious that I'm not."

Harm looked relieved, and Mac felt a jolt of pain through her heart. Would it really have been so bad if she was? _Well, you have to admit, it certainly wouldn't be under the best of circumstances._

Harm's food arrived, and he ate silently for a few minutes. Mac thought back over the last few months and all that led up to them, thought about how her life had changed since she had met Harm. She had definitely been more cautious before he came into her life. After she had dried out, she was careful about anything and everything she did, from financial decisions to relationships with the opposite sex. She was even hesitant about forming friendships; consequently, she didn't have many in her life that she would even consider calling "friend."

Once she met Harm, despite still being a rational, put together Marine, she found herself recklessly following him into any number of situations to watch his back, even at the risk of her own. Crossing that sexual line, breaking her cardinal rule of using protection...all reckless. And, god help her, she liked it. Could admit she wanted more of it. Starting a sexual relationship with Clay was no doubt careless as well, but at least they had been meticulous about protection. It had crossed her mind, however, that in addition to the obvious benefits, Clay was so adamant about protection because he didn't like things messy. Not on sheets that expensive, anyway. Mac was chagrined at thought. It made her relationship with Clay seem so cheap. _She_ felt cheap.

But then, there was Harm. Nothing about them together involved being careful, and, despite vowing after each tête-à-tête with him to not let it happen again, it would. _What kind of woman was she?_

Mac sipped on her ginger ale, deep in thought, while Harm chewed on his veggie wrap. Eventually she heard him call her name softly. He offered her the other half of his meal, which she declined. Then, after taking a couple more bites, he pushed his plate away and leaned back in his booth.

"Were you going to tell me about you and Webb?"

"Yes."

"When?"

She answered honestly. "I don't know."

"When did you…when did you end it?"

"The Saturday before we called you in to go over the Imes files."

Harm closed his eyes briefly. "After I…After that last time we…"

"Yes."

"It was because of me, wasn't it." It wasn't a question.

Mac nodded, but, as she had told Clay: "But not in the way you're thinking."

It was evident that he didn't really understand what she meant but she could still see the regret in his countenance.

"I'm sorry, Mac."

"Why?"

"Because no matter how I felt-feel about you, about Webb…about you and Webb together, I had no right to interfere, and I've hurt you."

She couldn't deny the hurt, but there was more to the breakup of her and Webb than just 'interference' from Harm.

"Harm…Clay and I, it was never going to work. I hadn't told anyone about it until Harriet today—I felt embarrassed, guilty, and I just didn't want to go into it with anyone. It was nobody's business but mine…and I just wanted it to all fade away. And you and I…well, we're not exactly in a place where discussing that sort of thing comes easily."

"I'm sorry about that, too."

Mac nodded in acknowledgement of his apology. This was merely scratching the surface of all they needed to hash out, and here and now was not exactly the right time to discuss things. Hopefully, they'd make it back before Friday, so they could have that dinner together at Harm's.

"Well, I suppose we should head back to our gate. Hopefully it won't be too much longer." Mac nodded again and got up with Harm. He left payment and tip on the table, grabbed her bag along with his, and soon they were once again sitting in those awful chairs.

Mac went over their discussion in the restaurant. She couldn't help but admit to herself that she was hurt by his panic over a possible pregnancy. Oh, she knew he'd never shirk his duties as a father, would never leave her all alone with the responsibility. She also knew he was likely thinking more about the circumstances surrounding the baby's conception rather than just the idea of having a baby with her. They did have that deal…which was coming due in a little less than six months. _Had time really gone that fast? Was Little AJ really turning five this year?_ Mac's heart fluttered at the thought of it all. No, Harm wouldn't be disgusted at conceiving a child with her. And the look on his face _was_ pretty funny…and despite the somewhat inappropriate nature of her finding humor in the situation, it did feel good to laugh. She hadn't really laughed in such a long time… A smile graced her face at the memory and she couldn't stop a little chuckle from escaping.

"Care to let me in on what's so amusing, Marine?"

"Nothing…just thinking about things."

"Things, huh? Well, I'm glad _some_ thing put a real smile on your face again. I've missed it." _So, others noted the lack of joy in her expressions as well—but then again, it had to have been fairly obvious, not that anyone took the time to ask her about it._

But then the implications of Harm's panic regarding a potential pregnancy started to gnaw at her again. Her insecurities were coming to the forefront; they were never really too far in the background anyway, and she had to know…

"Harm?" She kept her gaze focused on his long legs stretched out in front of him.

"Yeah?"

"Would it really have been so bad…if I had been…if I was pregnant?"

"Are you saying-" His legs pulled up and he quickly turned his body toward her as she interrupted him.

"No, no, I'm not…it's just…you were so…" She blushed at making her insecurity so obvious.

"Mac…" She felt his hand reach over and grab her wrist, pull it toward him, and then his fingers intertwined with hers. "Mac. Mac, look at me." She did, albeit reluctantly. She didn't want to see any pity in his blue-gray eyes.

What she found instead, in a rare moment of unguardedness from him, was tenderness…even love. She saw him shake his head back and forth, once, twice. "Mac, nothing would be…I mean, no. It wouldn't have been so bad." He drew her hand to his lips, a feather kiss caressing her knuckles before he gave her hand back to her. Just then, the call that the plane was ready to board interrupted the moment. They stood and gathered their things, Mac a little shell-shocked.

Harm then told her Frank had insisted on getting them first class tickets on this flight, and as luck would have it, two side-by-side were actually available. Mac was glad that for once, Harm didn't turn down the generosity of his step-father (the thousands given for their trip to Russia notwithstanding), and she was looking forward to the relative pampering in the premium cabin. Amazing how a hot towel and free treats made one feel like a queen. She turned her head to express her appreciation, only to find him looking at her once again with such...affection. He switched the briefcase he was holding to his other hand and reached out to put his arm around her, drawing her close into his side. "I was just worried about you." He spoke into her hair, and Mac swore she felt a soft kiss to the crown of her head. He let her go then, the whole experience lasting only a matter of seconds.

She stood there quietly stunned, Harm standing shoulder to shoulder with her, their arms at their sides. She was aware of their hands bumping into each other as they did that night of her engagement party, when her lips were still tingling from a stolen kiss on a porch, when she stood between her fiancé and the man who had always held her heart. The admiral had been offering his congratulations on her upcoming marriage, and even then, neither she nor Harm could keep their bodies from seeking each other out.

Even if only to caress and kiss by the backs of their hands.

 _End Chapter 17_


	18. Struggled Through the Night

_A/N: And now lucky chapter 18! (That's my favorite number.) I should once again advise you all that I have no idea about operation of 'things that fly in the air' other than my own experience on commercial airplanes. I also have no idea about investigations into crashes, lawyer stuff, and I'll straight out admit to you all that the case here is basically just filler…a means to an end. Don't judge! :) I admire all of you out there that can really go into the intricacies of such things. It seems there is some disappointment about Mac not being pregnant. I thought about it…and decided that would be a bit much for our couple to handle right now. Rest assured, though, that their "talk" is coming up soon…just not in this chapter. :)_

 **Delicate**

 **Chapter 18: Struggled Through the Night**

 _1938 Local (PST)_

 _United Flight 2303_

 _Descending into San Diego International Airport_

Mac slowly came awake, confused for a moment as to where she was. She felt a brief moment of panic; an arm was stretched across her and with a gasp she frantically tried to push it away. But then she heard a familiar, soothing voice close to her ear. "Mac. It's okay. It's just me. We'll be landing soon. Just gotta put your seat up."

Her racing heart slowed, and she gradually became aware of the feel of leather beneath her and the change in pitch of the jet engines as they began their descent into San Diego. Harm's arm darted across her again and she felt the back of her seat go up.

Mac took a moment to stretch her stiff and aching muscles. She realized she had slept the entire flight and was somewhat in awe of that. As they boarded the plane in Washington, Mac had suggested to Harm that they at least review the case together and prepare a game plan for the next day. Harm had given her a hard look as he stowed her carryon for her and suggested he start reviewing what information they had while she got some much-needed rest. They could discuss it more when they arrived in California. She started to protest, but the lure of sleep was just too strong. She knew she would be able to rest easier this time; she figured Harm wouldn't let her embarrass herself if she had a nightmare. She nodded and touched his shoulder in thanks, then leaned against the window and closed her eyes. As the flight attendant came down the rows offering refreshments, Mac murmured a 'nothing for me, Harm,' felt an answering squeeze of her hand, and snuggled further into her seat.

Eventually, she felt them start to taxi and then the familiar sensation of being pressed into her seat as the plane took off. Sleep was claiming her, and the last thing she remembered was the feel of her seat dropping back and a blanket being tucked around her. She may have mumbled a thank you but then was apparently out for the duration.

"Feeling better?" Harm spoke into her ear again. The feel of his breath on her cheek made goosebumps rise up along her arms.

Mac took stock of herself and realized that yes, she indeed felt better. Her stomach was much improved, and, while she could still use more sleep, her fatigue had at least lessened. She nodded, and Harm squeezed her hand again, looking pleased.

Once they landed, they gathered their things, picked up their rental, and were soon headed north on the I-5 towards Harm's parents' house. It was dark, and the night warm for this time in November. They made it to the Burnett's spacious home in under thirty minutes, receiving a warm welcome from Harm's mother and his step-father. She could tell Harm was a little nervous, and when he apologized to his parents for not calling more, he looked so much like the little boy who had broken his mother's favorite lamp by playing ball in the house. Once again, she wanted to put her arms around him and comfort him. She found the scene playing out in front of her between Harm and Mr. and Mrs. Burnett quite touching, and she swore all three of them had tears in their eyes. The prodigal son had come home at last.

Mac then found herself the object of Harm's mother's attention. "Mac, it's so nice to see you again. How was your flight?" Trish asked, ushering them to the stairs that would take them up to their rooms.

"It was good—slept the whole five hours and thirty-three minutes of it." She scanned her new surroundings. "You have a lovely home, Mrs. Burnett."

"Oh, call me Trish, dear. And thank you. We like it." She smiled back at Mac, who continued to look around at the tastefully decorated but very warm and inviting home. There was no doubting that Harm had grown up differently than she had…and yet, despite those vast differences, they both still had issues from the past to overcome. That truth, though, didn't stop her from feeling a little envious of Harm with his loving family. No matter what hardships he had had to overcome in his life, his mother, step-father, grandparents…they were always there for him. Meanwhile, she grew up watching her father physically and emotionally abuse her mother, hiding in her closet when it got too scary, being abandoned by her mother, having to endure the escalating emotional abuse directed at her by her father. The names he used to call her…

Mac buried those thoughts, not wanting to indulge in the self-pity right now. Mac realized Trish was speaking to her. "I'm sorry, Mrs.—ah, Trish, what were you saying?"

"Oh, nothing important, dear. You still look so tired. Harm told me you had just gotten back from a carrier this morning. Let me show you to your room, and then we'll have a light dinner on the terrace. The sun's gone down, but we have good lighting, and it's so nice here for November."

Mac nodded. It would be nice to eat with the sound of the ocean waves hitting the shore, and to her, coming from a typical November in DC, the night was practically hot. After dinner she and Harm would still need to go over his notes on the upcoming investigation, but then she could finally sleep in a real bed.

Trish led her upstairs to a huge bedroom, leaving Harm still talking to Frank. The lavishly appointed guest bedroom was spacious, so spacious that Mac was sure she could park three quarters of her apartment in it. The king-sized bed looked soft and comfortable, and the bedding was beautiful.

"I'm sorry, but we're remodeling the bedroom and bath down the hall, so it isn't exactly fit for guests right now." She opened the door to the bathroom and pointed to another door across from it. "That door leads into where Harm will be—I hope you don't mine sharing the bath with him, although he can, of course, use a different one. But I'll warn you, he's more than likely too lazy to do that. Men, you know. I would have put Harm in his old bedroom, but we turned it into an office for me last year. He hasn't been visiting much lately…." A look of sadness flashed across her face, but then it turned into one of amusement. "Honestly, I think Harm is still upset about it though. So, will this do for you?"

 _Would it do for her? Trish actually had to ask? It was wonderful!_ "Oh, yes, Trish. This will do fine. More than fine. Thank you!" Trish smiled warmly at her and then to Mac's surprise, pulled her into an embrace.

"Mac, it is really good to have you here. You've done so much for my son. We can't ever thank you enough."

Mac swallowed a lump that had formed in her throat. "Ma'am, I mean Trish, Harm has done as much, more even, than I've ever done for him. He saved me—" She stopped herself from going further. This was not something to bring up on her first night here.

Trish pulled back from her, hands still on Mac's shoulders. "Mac, we were so glad that Harm found you. I don't think Harm would've survived if something happened to you, and we would have been devastated if something happened to you as well."

Mac was surprised. She had only spent about thirty minutes ( _thirty-one minutes, fourteen seconds, to be exact)_ with this woman. Why would it have mattered to the Burnetts if she hadn't made it back?

"Are you doing okay after all that? Harm didn't say much after you both got back to Washington, but he did say things were pretty bad for you." Motherly concern was written all over her face.

Obviously, Harm's mother didn't know the whole story about what went down with Mac and her son, otherwise she wouldn't be so caring. Still, though, Mac sensed the older woman's concern was genuine, and she had to swallow another lump in her throat as tears stung her eyes.

"Um, I'm just fine, Mrs.—Trish. Thank you."

Trish pulled Mac back into her embrace. "Well, we are all glad you're safe."

"Thank you." _Honestly, if Harm's mom continued to be so, well, motherly, she would burst into tears right here. That would be embarrassing, to say the least._

"Well, I'll have Harm bring up your other bag with his, but for now go ahead and get settled and he can show you out to the terrace, okay? We can give you a tour of the whole place and grounds tomorrow."

Mac thanked her again and Trish left her alone, softly closing the door behind her.

* * *

 _2113 Local_

 _Burnett Residence_

 _La Jolla, CA_

"I don't know, Harm, the likelihood of Captain Books being intoxicated is pretty damn low when his blood alcohol level is zero with a negative urine drug screen."

"Well, we're still waiting for the full blood toxicology panel, but, yeah, it sure doesn't look like he was drunk or otherwise impaired in that fashion."

"How were his fitreps?"

"Exemplary."

"Harm, while I can't say that Books _doesn't_ have a drinking or drug problem, I don't think that it was the direct cause of this crash." She punctuated that sentence with yawn. "Sorry, Harm."

"No, I think you're right, no use speculating on anything else tonight before we've even talked to anyone. And I think it's time for young marines to be in bed." He winked at her and she rolled her eyes.

"Okay, mom. And you should be heading up there too. You didn't have the nap I did on the plane, and to us it's after midnight."

"Well, I haven't been gallivanting all over the world for the last week. Go ahead and go up. I'll say goodnight to my folks for both of us."

Mac agreed, told him goodnight, and was soon in the bathroom finishing her nightly routine. She sighed in delight as soon as she sank into the plush mattress beneath her. It was like lying on a cloud and within seconds she was fast asleep.

* * *

It was early morning, and Mac found Harm on his parents back on the terrace, enjoying a lavish breakfast. She joined them, feeling hungry for the first time in a while. She loaded her plate with fluffy scrambled eggs and crisp bacon, happy that Harm's parents didn't entirely share his eating habits. She added a couple of pastries to her breakfast and sat down in between Harm and his step-father. She asked Trish to pass her the salt…

Only to have the glass of the salt shaker shatter in her hand. She looked down and saw her hand covered in blood, fingers mangled and burning. She screamed and looked away from the horror of her hand, only to find herself staring into the open, unseeing eyes of Harm's mother. Red stains were spreading across Trish's chest. Harm and Frank were shouting, Frank running around the table to his wife. Mac felt something whiz by her ear and suddenly Frank reeled backward, a bullet hole in the middle of his forehead. He hit the ground, and Mac heard an anguished cry from Harm. Despite feeling lightheaded from her own injury, she slid from her chair and ducked low, trying to pull Harm down with her. He pulled away from her, too focused on getting to his obviously deceased parents. It was now eerily quiet. Mac tried to drag herself toward Harm, but was stopped by a voice that had haunted her dreams for months…

"Hello, Sarah." The cultured voice of Sadik Fahd was calm, friendly even.

Harm stood up from where he was kneeling by his mother. "You son of a bitch!" He made a move toward the terrorist, only to receive a bullet in his shoulder. He fell back on his six, his left hand automatically going to cover the wound on his right shoulder. Blood poured from between his fingers.

"Now, Commander Rabb, it is so boorish to use profanity in front of the ladies." Sadik's gaze slid to Trish's supine form. "Although, I suspect your mother is beyond caring now." Harm tried to lift himself off the floor but was already too weakened by his injury to move. He sat back, the pallor in his face letting Mac know that Harm didn't have much time. She had to do something. She started to crawl toward Sadik.

"I can see you, Sarah." Mac froze in place. The pain in her hand was excruciating, and judging by the blood pooling over her skirt where it now rested, she didn't have much time left either.

"You two really thought you could get away from me. Don't you know, Sarah? I'll always find you. You'll never be free of me. By the way, I've already been to see Agent Webb. He died cursing your name. I didn't understand it…you two seemed so close. But the way you carried on with the Commander here…you have obviously left your heritage behind you. You're just a whore…like every other American woman… Hmmm, you should probably get that hand looked at…it looks…unfortunate." He looked toward Harm. "Your lover doesn't look like he is doing very well, either." It was true. Harm had gone from pale to gray, his breathing fast and shallow. The look in his eyes…so fearful.

"Fuck you, Sadik."

"Sarah, Sarah, Sarah…I am so disappointed in you. Only a whore would speak like that." He stepped closer to Harm and raised his arm, pointing the gun toward Harm's head. "I think it's time we took care of one of your bad influences." Sadik's finger tightened on the trigger.

" _NO!"_ Mac screamed. "Don't, please, I'll do anything…just don't…"

Sadik's lips turned up into a gruesome smile, and he never lowered the gun. "My dear, don't worry. I won't hurt you…" His eyes dropped to her hand. "Well, not anymore today, anyway." The look in his eyes darkened into an evil glow. "But I am coming back for you. You can be assured of that. Now, say goodbye to Commander Rabb." Harm closed his eyes and Mac looked on in horror.

"No, don't, please," Mac begged. Sadik pulled the trigger.

Mac screamed.

* * *

 _0002 Local_

 _Burnett Residence_

 _La Jolla, CA_

Mac continued to scream, Sadik calling her name. "Mac! Mac." His hands clutched her upper arms. Mac started to fight.

"Mac! Sarah!" Mac fought harder.

"Sarah! It's me. It's Harm. Wake up!"

 _Wait, Harm? Harm was dead. Sadik had…_ Strong arms went around her, pinning hers to her sides. She tried to squirm out of them, but they held fast.

"Mac, honey. Please, you're going to hurt yourself. Please wake up. You're safe. It's okay."

 _No, it wasn't okay. It would never be okay. Harm, his parents…wait. That voice…it was Harm's…it was safety, warmth._ Mac heard another voice, speaking somewhere to behind Harm. It sounded like…

Mac forced her eyes open. She was in a dark room, sitting on a bed, held close by a pair of long arms, a gentle voice whispering words of comfort into her ear. Light from the hall illuminated a figure in the doorway, and as her eyes adjusted, she saw that it was Frank…alive. They were both alive. It had just been a nightmare. A horrible, vivid nightmare that had left her clothing and bedding soaked around her, heart still pounding in fear. "H-harm?" she whispered. She took in a long, shuddering breath.

"I'm here, Sarah. You're safe. It was just a dream. You're alright." He kissed her temple and pulled her closer to his broad, bare chest. Her ear rested over his heart, and she focused on the steady beating of it. She was dimly aware of tears coursing down her cheeks, unchecked. Harm moved a hand and started stroking her back in slow, circular movements. Mac squeezed her eyes shut again.

"Is she okay, Harm?" It was the low voice of Frank, filled with concern.

Harm's voice made his chest vibrate against her ear. "Yeah, it was just a nightmare. She'll be alright." _But it had been so real…_

"I'm sorry," Mac whispered against Harm.

"It's okay, Mac. You're safe here." It was Frank. "I'll let Trish know what happened. We were afraid someone was hurting you."

 _No, someone already did. And she didn't have any doubt that that someone_ would _be coming back for her._

Harm's father left, leaving the door cracked open a bit, letting a sliver of light through.

"I'm sorry," Mac said again. She was so embarrassed and still so terrified.

"Oh, Sarah…don't be sorry." He dropped a kiss onto the crown of her head. "It's not your fault." He continued to rub soothing circles on her back.

They sat on her bed for a few more minutes, Mac willing her heart to slow, trying to soak up some of Harm's strength. She was shivering and Harm's arms tightened more around her.

"Mac, honey? We need to get you out of these clothes. You're soaked. And the bed…Here, you can sleep in my bed, I'll give you something to change into and head down the hall for tonight—there's at least a bed still in there."

Mac wasn't sure she'd ever sleep again after that dream, but she obediently let Harm help her stand and steady her on her feet. He took her through the bathroom into his room and sat her down on his bed, then turned on the bedside lamp and started rummaging around in his bag before pulling out a t-shirt. "Here you go, Mac. I'll wait here while you change in the bathroom, okay?" Mac didn't answer, visions of her dream still invading her brain. She shuddered again.

"Mac. Come on. Let's get changed." He touched her shoulder and she gasped, startled. "Easy, Mac. You're okay." He ran his hand over her damp hair. "I'm here. You're safe. I'll keep you safe." He helped her off the bed, handed her the shirt, and directed her back into the bathroom. He flipped on the light, and the brightness of it made her wince. "Sorry, hon."

Mac hadn't missed Harm's use of endearments, and she took some strength in them. Harm _would_ keep her safe.

Harm left her alone in the bathroom, and Mac risked a look into the bathroom mirror. A pale, frightened looking woman stared back at her. Her hair was tousled, the gray 'Property of the USMC' tank top she was wearing damp and clinging to her body. Dark circles rimmed her chocolate-brown eyes, and the look of terror in them made Mac look away. She turned on the faucet to splash some water on her face, but flashes of her nightmare interrupted her and she started to tremble.

Mac, for once, couldn't honestly say how long she stood in front of the sink, water running, while she stared unseeing at her hands. Suddenly, a masculine arm shot around her and turned off the water. She was startled again, her trembling increasing as she let out a whimper. Harm turned her around and pulled her to him, wrapping her in a warm embrace. She breathed in his unique scent, raising her arms and slipping them around his waist while he silently held her. Tears slipped from beneath her eyelids and soon she was sobbing into Harm's chest. He whispered more words of comfort into her hair until she finally calmed, an occasional shudder still going through her body.

Harm leaned away from her and lifted her tear-stained face with his fingers, looking deeply into her eyes. "Better?"

"Yeah, but…Oh, Harm, why won't they stop? These nightmares…I can't…they won't leave me alone."

"I don't know, honey." He pulled her tightly against him again. After a few minutes, she pulled away from him.

"I'm alright, now, Harm. You can...I'll just change...okay?"

"Go ahead, Mac. I'll wait in the bedroom for you." He left her then, and she quickly pulled off her tank top and shorts, throwing Harm's T-shirt over her. It hit her mid-thigh and it smelled like him.

Harm stood up from the bed as she walked into the room. He pulled back the covers for her and motioned for her to lie down. He tucked the covers back around her and stood, saying, "I'm just down the hall if you need me." He stepped away from her, but her hand shot from under the blankets and grabbed his wrist.

"Harm? Could you—could you just—"

"You want me to stay until you fall asleep?"

"No…I mean yes, but could you just…stay?" Mac hated being this weak and vulnerable, but the dream was still so fresh in her mind. She needed Harm's living presence close to her to hopefully erase the images of him dying along with his family.

"Sure, Mac." He moved to the other side of the bed and slipped in beside her. She felt him search out her hand underneath the blankets, and once he found it, he wrapped her icy cold hand in his warm one. "This okay?"

"Yeah, Harm. Thanks."

"Goodnight, Sarah."

"Goodnight, Harm."

Soon she heard his breathing even out, his hold on her hand slightly loosening. She, however, lay there beside him for another ninety-four minutes, counting his breaths, until she at last succumbed to sleep with one last thought.

 _Sadik is coming for me._

 _End Chapter 18_


	19. Never Dreamed of This

_A/N: Yeah, so the "talk" isn't in this chapter…it'll be in the next one. Thanks for the reviews! And I warn you…the resolution to their "case" is a bit…anticlimactic… Also, my wonderful, long vacation has come to an end, so updates will likely be slower. This saddens me. BTW, TwilightPony21, there's a tub featured in this one…_

 **Delicate**

 **Chapter 19: Never Dreamed of This**

 _0600 Local_

 _Burnett Residence_

 _La Jolla, CA_

Mac opened her eyes in the dim morning light. She had set her inner alarm clock to 0600 and was relieved that despite the interrupted night, her inner time sense was still functioning properly. Never one to hit the "snooze" button, she tried to slide out of the bed, only to be stopped by an arm tightening around her waist. Then she became of aware of a warm body spooned against her back. She smiled to herself. _Harm._ He was still asleep judging by his deep, even breathing, but that didn't stop him from strengthening his hold on her when she tried to slip out of bed again. He also opened his legs and threw one of them over her hip for good measure, making it nearly impossible to get out of bed without waking him up.

Mac turned her head as best she could to make sure he was actually still sleeping. She could see enough to note that he had that innocent little boy look on his face and she only ever saw that if he was truly off in dreamland. He stirred a little under her gaze, pulling her even closer if that were possible. It was then that Mac felt his morning erection pressing against her back, and she felt a familiar jolt of electricity shoot through to her core. She had a strong desire to squirm against it, but knowing that was an exceedingly bad idea, she took a deep breath and whispered his name.

"Harm. It's time to get up." He groaned a little in his sleep, his foot starting to slide up her shin. Mac felt the warmth spreading through her center, and she closed her eyes, praying for strength. "Harm!" she called, louder this time. His eyelids started to flutter, and he shifted a bit, enough for her to wiggle somewhat out of his hold.

"Don't go, baby." Harm's voice was slurred a bit; it was obvious that he still wasn't completely awake, even though he managed to reclaim his hold on her.

"I have to Harm. We have to get up. We have an investigation to start, okay?"

"Five more minutes, Sarah." He started to snore.

Mac rolled her eyes. At least he knew who he was sleeping with. "Harm, if you just let me get up and shower you can have the five minutes." His snoring stopped as his hand started to rub circles over her tummy. She felt the wetness pooling in her panties and she shivered as Harm started to nuzzle her neck with his nose. She needed to get out of there.

"Harm! Wake up!" She nearly shouted. Suddenly she found herself on her back, Harm on top of her. His eyes were open, but unfocused. His lowered his face, his lips brushed against hers, then he drew her lips into a soft, tender kiss. Mac tried not to respond, but she really couldn't help her mouth from following his lead. Her lips opened to let his tongue in. As he pulled away from her she saw a satisfied smile.

"Morning, beautiful."

"Good morning, Harm. Can I go shower now?" Butterflies fluttered in her tummy.

"You can do anything you want, baby." His voice was lazy, suggestive.

"I want to shower. But you're gonna have to get off me."

"We could shower together, Mac…. _Mac?!"_

 _Ah, there it was_. His brain finally caught up with his body.

"Good, you're awake. Let me up." Mac hoped the newly awake Harm wouldn't notice the rapid beating of her heart. He still loomed above her, his erection still in contact with her body. His eyes were wide and blinking for a second before he rolled off of her, then he leapt out of bed so fast that he nearly bounced her out of it.

"Oh my god, Mac! I'm so sorry. Shit, what did I say? What did I _do?!"_ He looked down and his hands immediately cupped over the bulge in his boxers. He started to shift his weight from foot to foot. "Mac, I'm sorry. I didn't mean…Oh my _godddd."_

"Harm! Calm down! You were asleep. I mean, you were pretty active for someone sleeping, but asleep nonetheless…you didn't do anything, I promise." _Well, nothing she didn't thoroughly enjoy…_

"Mac, really, I…"

Mac got out of the bed and stood, watching him continue to squirm. For the second time in two days, she broke out into laughter, giggling at his distress. He stared back at her in consternation. Once she calmed down, she met his gaze "Harm, as I said before, don't worry about it. We're okay, I promise, and thank you for staying with me last night. I—I needed that."

His eyes turned soft, caring. "Anytime, Marine."

"Thanks, Harm. Now, if you don't mind, I need a shower and we need to get moving, alright? And," she couldn't resist looking down to where his hands still covered himself protectively. "Looks like you need one, too."

" _Maaaaaac."_ His face turned an interesting shade of red. "Yeah, I guess so. Um, let me get my stuff out of the bathroom and I'll go shower and shave downstairs, then see about breakfast." He shuffled by her and went into the bathroom, only to poke is head back out as the light went on. "Um, Mac? I really am sorry about this morning. Seriously, I—"

" _Haaaaarm!_ Let it go! Now get your six in gear." His head went back in and soon he came out dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt.

"Okay, it's all yours. I'll see you soon."

"Sure, Harm. By the way, how many bathrooms does this place have?"

He thought for a moment, counting on his fingers. "Uh, seven? Not all of them have showers, et cetera, though."

"So, like, one of them doesn't have a shower, right?"

He looked a little sheepish. "Well, yeah…but if you count the bathroom in the shop…there's two that don't have baths or showers."

"So…eight bathrooms, six of them full baths. This place is paradise, Harm! And I could probably bathe a whole football team in that tub in there." She motioned to their shared bathroom.

"Is that a fantasy of yours, Marine?" He gave her a grin.

"No, the tub is a fantasy of mine. And now I really need to get to that shower." Harm nodded and took his leave, and she went into the bathroom to get ready for the day. She chuckled again. Oh, that man…that sweet, sexy, hunk of a man…lord, but she needed to stop thinking that way about him. At least while they still needed to have that talk. She prayed that he would say the right words so they could put all this behind them and be the friends they had been once upon a time. And after that…well, maybe then they could move beyond friendship into something even more wonderful.

* * *

 _0657 Local_

 _Burnett Residence_

 _La Jolla, CA_

Mac came down the stairs in her uniform, musing to herself that she hoped she could find the kitchen or at least someone to show her to breakfast. Of course, thinking about breakfast reminded her of her dream and she had to pause a moment and take a few deep breaths. She had flashed back to her dream while she was in the shower as well, unable to stop the tears from falling. She had sobbed as quietly as she could for a few minutes, then managed to get herself under tough marine control once again. However, it did extend the length of time it usually took her to get ready, and she was irritated with herself that Harm had likely beaten her for once.

He came around a corner, already in uniform as well. "Hey, Mac. Breakfast is ready. Would you like to eat out on the terrace again? It's a nice morning, they also have heaters out there if you get cold. We've got eggs…and Mom made bacon. That's right, Mac. Fried pig! I think they like you better than me." He gave her a mischievous smile…and all the color drained from her face.

"Mac! What's wrong?" He stepped up to her, putting his left arm around her shoulders and his right hand on her left elbow.

"Uh, nothing…I just, my dream last night…um, no, no terrace today, and, uh, maybe I'll just have some toast…" She scanned her surroundings. "Um, Harm, where are your parents?" _Please don't let them be on the terrace…_

"Frank's already left for work and Mom's just about to head out to her gallery. Mac, what is it?"

She didn't want to tell him, but she also didn't want him to think she was crazy. She took a deep breath. "My dream…Sadik…we were all having breakfast out there, the terrace. He found us…he killed…" She couldn't go any further, didn't want to say those words.

"Mac, it was just a dream. I'm fine, my parents are fine. We don't have to eat out there, but please, please eat something more than toast. You're getting to be no bigger than a minute."

Slowly, she nodded. "Okay, Harm. But it was just so real."

"I know, but Mac, do you really feel like Sadik is here? I know you sometimes see things…feel things…"

Mac closed her eyes and tried to focus. No, she didn't honestly feel like Sadik was out there, lying in wait, ready to kill Harm and his family. She was also fairly certain he wasn't even in the country at the moment. But nothing could take away the feeling that he was still coming for her…

"No, Harm. I don't…I just think he's…" She stopped herself from telling Harm her actual suspicions. "Um, the dream…it was just so real," she said again.

He nodded at her sympathetically. "Come on, Mac. You'll feel better after something to eat."

 _Not bloody likely, Harm._ But she did go with him to the kitchen.

Under Harm's watchful gaze, she ate a bit of the eggs and a strip of bacon, along with a piece of toast. He left to use the lone bathroom actually in the house without a shower, and she headed toward the stairs to get the briefcase she had forgotten in her room. On her way there, she passed the door the led out to the terrace. She halted, noting how calm and beautiful it looked out there…and then she imagined it covered in rivers of blood. Frank's. Trish's. _Harm's…_ She choked back the bile that rose up in her throat and ran to the stairs, sprinting up to her bathroom, barely making it to the toilet in time to throw up the breakfast she had just eaten.

* * *

 _1559 Local_

 _Miramar Corps Air Station Miramar_

 _San Diego, CA_

"Well…that was a bit…anticlimactic," Harm mused as he ended a call to the admiral on his cell phone.

After talking to Captain Book, they were nearly one hundred percent certain he did not have any sort of drug or alcohol problem. None of his colleagues had any concerns and all trusted him implicitly when flying. His co-pilot, however… Lieutenant Cahill was a bit of a loose cannon, had been noted to have many a drink when he went out, and his blood alcohol level was 0.07. Not legally drunk by normal driving standards, but about 0.07 above what it should have been while flying. A likely cause of mechanical failure of the helicopter had also been noted. The investigation wasn't completely over, but both Harm and Mac had enough to go on to be able to fly out tomorrow afternoon.

Mac agreed, glad to be finished with this step in the investigation, but rather sad to be leaving Harm's parents' so soon.

Harm's phone rang again. "Hello?" He listened for a minute. "Let me ask Mac." Mac looked up at the sound of her name. "It's Frank. He was wondering if you'd like to eat at this bistro down the road from them. It's pretty good…at least it was the last time I ate there."

Mac nodded. "Sure."

Harm spoke to Frank again. "She says yes. What time? 1930?" He looked over at Mac who nodded her approval. "Okay, we'll be ready. We're actually pretty much finished here, anyway."

Mac was actually fairly hungry. After losing her breakfast, she quickly brushed her teeth again and rinsed her mouth with mouthwash. She headed back down to where Harm was waiting by the stairs. He had narrowed his eyes a bit at her, and she had willed him not to ask her anything. Luck was with her as he just asked her if she was ready to go. They then headed to the base, conducted the pertinent interviews, visited the crash site, examined the aircraft, and were done. It had to be the fastest preliminary investigation they'd ever done. They worked through lunch, thus all Mac had had to eat was a granola bar and a Fruit Roll-Up, much to Harm's disgust.

They soon left the base. It took them a bit longer to get home, given the time of day and the traffic. Trish had come home early from the gallery, and while Harm stopped to talk to her, Mac went upstairs to freshen up, giving the mother and son a chance to catch up on their own.

She was originally just going to take a shower, but after she'd shed and rehung her uniform and saw how inviting the big whirlpool tub appeared, she changed her mind and started filling it.

The tub was just as wonderful as any of her fantasies, and she sank into the warm water all the way up to her chin, forgoing the whirlpool function in favor of quiet. She deliberately worked to clear her mind of all worries and was almost successful, which was good enough for the moment.

Her mind started to wander, and as was common for her, it eventually zeroed in on her handsome partner. She had lied so many years ago when she told him his smile didn't do anything for her. She'd thought he was beautiful then, and as he'd aged, filled out more, she thought him even more beautiful. She loved the little lines that had formed at the corner of his eyes, loved how they represented years of that killer flyboy grin. And what he did to her insides… Images of their encounters together filled her mind, and she didn't fight the arousal that built up in her. She became hyperaware of the area between her legs and couldn't resist sliding a hand downward toward the aching bundle of nerves. Her eyes drifted shut, and her fingers slipped in between her slick folds and began to tease and stroke her bud. Her other hand started to massage and squeeze a breast, rolling the nipple into a taut peak. The pace of her breathing increased as did the movements of her hands. She could feel the pressure building within…

"Oh, god, Sarah."

Mac's eyes flew open, looking up into the burning stare of stormy blue-gray eyes. He was gulping for air as he seemed to be frantically trying to remember how to speak.

"Mac…I…I knocked…I didn't hear anything…so I…I…"

Mac didn't move, didn't even take her hands from her breast or from between her thighs. She was stunned. She knew she should tell him to turn around and leave, but between her own arousal and the fire in his eyes, she couldn't do it. Harm himself should have turned around and left but was obviously incapable of movement at the moment. He was clad only in his white boxers, and she once again saw them bulging with his own arousal. This time, however, it wasn't just a common morning response. She knew the blood rushing into his manhood was all for her, knew it was because of the sight of her pleasuring herself. She ever so slowly pulled the hand resting on her mound out of the water and held it out to him. He stepped forward as if he were in a trance, took her hand, and knelt down next to the tub as she pulled his arm under with hers. His breath caught as she guided his hand to her core, and she used her hand to show him what she wanted.

"Oh, Jesus, Sarah. You're so…" His hand began to stroke the silkiness between her labia, thumb searching out her clitoris, fingers plunging deep inside her. Her breathing quickened as once again her body built toward orgasm. She bucked and writhed underneath his hand, biting her lip to keep from crying out and alerting his parents to their activities.

Harm had buried his other hand in her hair, and as she finally found her explosive release, his kiss caught her involuntary cry. She whimpered into his mouth as her orgasm sent those familiar spasms through her. His arm came out of the water as he sat up on his knees. Harm cupped that hand to her cheek, breaking the kiss and resting his forehead on hers.

"I'm sorry, Sarah. I shouldn't have…I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, Harm. Please."

"We can't keep doing this." He sounded pained and she realized while she had her release, he was likely still suffering the results of his desire and more than a little guilt about what had just happened.

"I know." She felt the guilt rising in her as well. He kissed her again, briefly, before standing up.

"I'll just let you…I'd better leave…" He turned away from her, and she dropped her head back, wishing that everything between them wasn't so damned complicated.

* * *

 _2155 Local_

 _Burnett Residence_

 _La Jolla, CA_

It was time for bed. Harm let Mac use the bathroom first, and Mac quickly brushed her teeth and washed off her makeup. Once she finished applying some moisturizer, she called through the slightly open door into Harm's bedroom that the bathroom was all free. She had already changed into the shirt Harm had loaned her last night. 'Loaned' was probably not the correct word. She fully intended to slip it into her bag along with the rest of her things. She wanted something of his to keep close to her. After he'd gone so long without answering any of her calls and after one of her sob sessions in her bathtub, she'd gathered up all the T-shirts she'd confiscated from him over the years and threw them down the trash shoot. That night, she'd also thrown the spare key of his that she had had on her keyring for the last eight years into an envelope and mailed it back to him without any accompanying note or return address. It would be obvious as to who it was from anyway. She wondered what he had thought when he opened his mail to find that.

She turned down the comforter on the bed, admiring the newly changed bedding. She prayed there wouldn't be another scene like last night. She didn't need the embarrassment and she didn't think she could take another horror like the one that had played out in her mind.

Dinner had been enjoyable. Frank and Trish Burnett were truly lovely people, and they had talked about a wide variety of subjects and both Harm and Mac told them humorous stories from the early years of their partnership. Details were often watered down, but the spirit was there.

The only difficult thing about dinner tonight was sitting so close to Harm. The bistro was fairly small, and while there was enough room for four people at their table, they were still forced to nearly be touching as they ate. Mac really wanted nothing more than to feel him against her, but she didn't want to risk any inappropriate reactions from either of them. As it was, their hands often bumped into each other, their elbows rubbing as they ate. Harm was fidgety, and there was one moment when they both reached for same piece of bread from the basket that had been placed in the center of the table. Harm's big hand folded over hers and for a long moment she didn't think either of them were breathing. Harm's hand lingered on hers for several heartbeats before he slowly withdrew it. Her hand moved back into her lap without even taking the bread. Harm's parents thankfully didn't seem to notice their reaction to each other's touch. By the time dinner was over, Mac was exhausted from the sheer energy it took to keep herself under control. Harm didn't look like he had fared much better.

"Hey, Mac?" Harm called from the bathroom.

"Yeah, Harm?"

"Can I borrow your toothpaste? I left mine downstairs."

"Yeah, it's in the bag hanging from the towel rack."

She heard him rummaging around for a few seconds before he called out again. "Are you sure? I can't find it."

She rolled her eyes in exasperation. _Honestly. Men could never find anything._

Mac walked into the bathroom, located the toothpaste exactly where she had told him it was. She pulled it out of the bag and held it out to him. He reached for it, his fingertips grazing hers as he gripped the tube. Neither would let go of their end of the toothpaste, and they drew closer to each other by the second. Harm was shirtless, and her eyes raked over his muscular chest as they rose to meet his. They stared unblinking at each other for several beats. The toothpaste fell to the floor between them.

This time they couldn't stop the magnetic tug toward each other. Harm's arms went around her and he crushed her against his chest. He fused his lips to hers, a hand going under her shirt and working its way to her breasts. She slipped a hand into his sweatpants, searching out his manhood and feeling it grow beneath her touch. He pressed her up against the shower door and they clutched at each other frantically, their kiss increasing in intensity.

"Oh, god, Sarah. What you do to me…tonight all I could think about was touching you like that again." She knew he was referring to their earlier encounter in the tub. "I think I had a hard-on through half of dinner."

She smiled into his kiss. "Ask me where my panties are."

His kisses trailed down her neck. "Where are your panties?"

"I had to take them off. Too wet."

At that he groaned, lowering his hands and running them up the back of her thighs until they slipped under her shirt, confirming that, indeed, she wasn't wearing any panties. He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around him as he carried her to his room. He lowered her to the bed and covered her body with his. "Sarah, we should stop." He pushed her (his) shirt up until the hem rested above her bare breasts. His mouth moved to her nipples, circling them with his tongue and suckling them.

"I know." Mac slipped her hand once again under the waistband of his pants, sliding it down until she could put it through the gap in his boxers to grasp his penis. He gasped and rolled her over so she was on top of him. He tugged at her shirt for a moment and she had to let go of him so he could pull the shirt completely off of her. She then moved down him to make quick work of his pants and underwear.

"Sarah…Sarah…I can't forget what it was like to be inside you. Oh my god…I need you." His hand slipped in between them and ran it through labia slickened with the flow of her need. "But I'll stop—I'll—"

"No, Harm. Don't stop. _Please_ don't stop."

He flipped them over again, looking down into her eyes while he used one hand to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, Harm. I'm sure," she whispered. Her hips rose up toward his and he moaned. "Please, I want you inside me. I can't wait anymore. No one's ever made it feel the way you do. _Please,"_ she whimpered.

He lowered himself into her tortuously slow, making her whimper all over again. As soon as he was completely buried within her, he started to move. Waves upon waves of pleasure rolled through her and the intensity of this union overwhelmed each of their previous encounters. He slid his hand down in between them, playing with her clitoris causing her to once again bite her lip to hold back a scream. Harm whispered her name over and over as he kissed and loved her, each stroke bringing her closer and closer to the edge. His movements became more frantic and she felt her orgasm building within her. She knew he was close; he too was biting his lip, ostensibly to keep from shouting.

When release finally came, she felt him jerk inside her, releasing his essence as her own orgasm exploded outward. It rolled through her; just when she thought she was starting to come down from her high, another spasm would catch her in its wake. It had never, never been like this before.

Harm collapsed on top of her, then tried to roll them over. Mac wrapped her legs around him, locking him in place. "No, don't. Stay inside me."

He lifted his head from where he'd rested it beside her. She'd never seen that look of tenderness in his eyes before, and it made her tingle down to her toes. He kissed her, breathing his answer into her mouth. "Of course, sweetheart." He pulled back again, brushing her cheek with the back of his hand, running the pad of his thumb over her swollen lips. "Oh, Sarah…"

He had been supporting his weight on his elbows, and Mac could tell he was getting sleepy. "I'm sorry, Mac, I don't want to crush you." He moved off of her and, as she mourned the loss of their union, he settled on his back. "Goodnight, Sarah," He whispered.

"Goodnight, Harm." His breathing quickly evened out and, thinking he was asleep, she began to scoot herself toward the edge of the bed to get up.

She had figured she should go…it wasn't their MO to hang around and cuddle and she honestly believed he would prefer not to wake up with her still there. A silly thought, given that he had just spent the last night holding her. But then his hand shot out and encircled her wrist.

"You can stay, Mac."

"You want to me to?"

"I want you to."

She settled back down and snuggled closer to him. He turned to lay on his side, facing her, and he pulled her to him, opening his legs for her so she could tuck herself into his body. It reminded her of how they slept that night in Afghanistan and she smiled at the memory. There was just enough illumination from the nightlight in the bathroom for her to see that his eyes were closed. His breathing once again slowed, and she felt sleep creeping up on her as well. Mac closed her eyes. "Goodnight, Harm," she said again. He didn't answer right away, and she assumed that he had fallen asleep for sure this time. As the lure of sleep started to claim her as well, she almost missed Harm's answer:

"Goodnight, Sarah...I love you."

 _End Chapter 19_


	20. Clear Blue Water

_A/N: Here it is, at long last…_ **The Talk.** _I hope it meets with your approval._

 **Delicate**

 **Chapter 20: Clear Blue Water**

 _2221 Local_

 _Burnett Residence_

 _La Jolla, CA_

 _Goodnight, Sarah…I love you._

Mac's eyes flew open. _Did he just say…_ THAT?!

"Harm?" she whispered. He didn't move, and his breathing remained deep and even. She lightly stroked his chest. When he still didn't move, she decided that he really was asleep this time. She placed a soft kiss below his collar bone. "I love you too, Harm."

She snuggled in closer and soon joined him in slumber.

* * *

 _0829 Local_

 _Burnett Residence_

 _La Jolla, CA_

Mac awoke to the feel of gentle fingers idly stroking her hair. She lay draped across Harm, half of her lying on his chest while her leg rested intimately over his pelvis. She leaned her head back, her lips finding the stubble along his jaw. "Good morning, Harm," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She felt his kiss on her forehead.

"Hey, Mac. You sleep well?"

"Mmhmm"

They lay in silence for several minutes, Harm never ceasing his ministrations to her hair. Then Harm sighed. "Mac?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry about last night."

 _What?!_ Mac's mind automatically went to his declaration of love from the night before.

"You didn't mean it." She rolled off and away from him, then sat up, drawing her knees to her chin.

Harm sat up as well. "What?" He looked confused for several beats, then realization must have dawned on him. "No, Mac, I—"

"I thought so." She threw herself off of the bed, grabbing Harm's t-shirt and pulling it back on. She started to walk toward the bathroom.

"Mac, wait—"

"It's okay, Harm. You don't have to explain."

"No, Mac—just stop for a second and listen to me!"

She heaved a defeated sigh and turned around. Harm had pulled on his sweatpants and a t-shirt, a look of desperation combined with regret on his face.

"Mac…I—I just—I keep doing this to you."

She gave a humorless chuckle. "What, let me think you want me then run the minute I might be in a position to reciprocate?"

"NO! No, Mac, I mean this!" He flung his arm toward the bed. "I keep coming after you. I can't seem to let you be!"

"Well, who said I wanted you to?"

" _Maaaac."_ He had his hands on his hips, pain now combining with the desperation in his expression. He looked at anything other than her, finally settling his eyes on the ceiling.

Mac was frustrated. Exhausted. Angry. _Why couldn't things for once be easy for them?_ "What, Harm? _What?!"_

His hands dropped from his hips, arms falling limply at his sides. He took a few breaths, then said the words that sent a piercing shot straight to her heart.

"You said never."

Mac's hand went to her chest; it actually hurt. Those horrible words were going to haunt her forever. Harm's whole body seemed to deflate in front of her and his expression changed to one of devastation.

"Sarah…I, I just don't have any right to—" His words choked off and he turned away from her.

It was hard for Mac to even speak, but she managed a harsh whisper. "The right to what, Harm?"

Harm didn't say anything for a minute while Mac's frustration increased.

"Sarah…I'm sor-

"For the love of god, Harm, don't tell me you're sorry! Right to _what?" Answer dammit!_

He turned back toward her, and his eyes were suspiciously shiny. He looked up at the ceiling again, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. Finally, he spoke.

"To love you."

* * *

 _0838 Local_

 _Burnett Residence_

 _La Jolla, CA_

Mac stood there stunned, staring through the doorway Harm had just exited through. She could still feel the pain in her heart from hearing Harm utter those fateful words. _Never. Never. Never never never never._ How she despised the word now. If she could go back to Paraguay and face her past self, she would slap her silly for saying something so stupid.

 _But at that moment, it's what you felt…_

Mac took a step toward the bedroom door with the intent to follow Harm. Then she stopped. She needed time to regroup, and then she would go find him. They needed to talk. Now. This couldn't wait until tomorrow at dinner.

Mac decided to shower, drawing it out and letting the water massage her stressed body. Once she had dressed, she grabbed a jacket and went down the stairs. She sensed he was outside, so she slid her arms into the sleeves of her coat. She did a cursory check of the kitchen and living room, then stopped at the door to the terrace. _Would he have gone out there to avoid her?_ Possibly. She reached for the doorknob, then drew her hand back when she felt the cool metal at her fingertips. Her heart sped up along with her breathing and she willed herself to calm down as images of her dream assaulted her. _Breathe in, breathe out. Slowly. You can do this, Marine._

She reached for the knob again, this time forcing herself to open the door. It was a bit cool out on the terrace, but still warm to her for November. She scanned the area, almost afraid to look too hard at any one thing. She haltingly stepped away from the door, looking over at the seating area and then forcing herself to look at the table where they had eaten dinner their first night here, and where Sadik had ambushed them in her dream. Her heartbeat quickened again, and she felt a little dizzy.

Harm was not out there, but as she made it to the railing surrounding the terrace she noticed a path disappearing into a copse of trees. There hadn't been time to really tour the house and grounds with Harm's parents, but instinct told her that the path led to the Burnetts' private beach. Suddenly she was absolutely certain Harm would be found out there. She gladly left the backdrop of the worst nightmare of her life, found the stairs to the lower level where she assumed a backdoor was located, and soon she was heading toward Harm.

The path wasn't long, heading downward to the beach with a gentle slope. Mac stepped from the trees onto the sand, taking in the view of the vast ocean before her, watching as the waves kissed the beach. The water was fairly calm at the moment, and she found Harm sitting halfway between her and the shore. His elbows rested on his knees, and she slowly made her way toward him. Caution and apprehension made her stop a few feet from where he sat, not sure how she she should approach. Mac stood there for nearly a minute before Harm's soft voice reached her ears.

"I used to come down here a lot once we moved in—just to get away from Mom and Frank. I was furious at my mother of course, and I couldn't stand him." He chuckled ruefully. "I probably spent more time out here from age thirteen to fifteen than I did inside." He didn't take his eyes from the ocean, and Mac still stood behind him, uncertain. Finally, she decided to just dive in and get this over with.

"Are we going to talk about it?"

His shoulders slumped a bit. "About what just happened, or what's been happening?"

"All of it, Harm."

He let out a huff of air and finally turned his neck to meet her eyes. "Okay." He patted the space next to him on the blanket he had spread out. Mac took a tentative step forward, rubbing her arms to try to warm up a bit. It was cooler down by the water, and she wasn't sure how long she'd be able to stay out here. Harm, however, once again saved the day. He had another blanket beside him and he handed it to her as she sat down.

"I knew you would find me."

She wrapped the blanket around her shoulders, drawing her knees up and wrapping her arms around them. She sat several inches from Harm and they both watched the waves break on the shore for a few minutes until she sensed Harm looking at her.

"Harm, I—"

"Mac—"

They both spoke at the same time, then chuckled a bit before Harm told her to she could go first.

"Where do we start?"

"I don't know…there's so much…"

"Harm…you didn't really mean it, did you."

He reached for her hand, giving it a brief squeeze before settling his elbow back on his knee. "You've got it wrong, Mac. I meant it. I love you, Sarah, so much."

Her heart galloped a moment before she answered him. "I love you too, Harm, more than anything. But I guess sometimes that isn't enough."

"Why do you say that, Mac?" His voice was even, but it sounded like he was struggling to keep it so.

"Harm, why is it never easy for us? Why do we come so close and then let it fall apart?"

"Sarah, I've asked myself that so many times…I still haven't found an answer."

Mac stretched out her legs for a moment, then drew them back in to sit cross-legged. She dropped an elbow to her knee, mimicking Harm's position, and rested her chin on her hand. "Well, this time it's my fault…again."

Harm seemed surprised. "Mac, why would you think that? And what do you mean, 'again'?"

Mac sighed. "You know why." She hadn't meant to, but she had turned Harm's patented response back on him.

"You mean the 'never.'" His voice was sad, and her eyes filled with tears.

The pain was back in her chest, and though she had been determined not to cry, her tears fell anyway.

She could only nod as she took a few minutes to collect herself. They both remained where they were, neither making a move to touch or comfort the other. "H-Harm?" That never…"

"Did you really mean it?"

"Yes—yes I did."

Harm kept himself planted on the blanket, but his upper body leaned away from her.

Mac did reach out and touch him then, feeling his shoulder tense under her hand. "No, wait, Harm. I meant it then, but not—not since you took the job with the CIA…I realized then that…that there was no way I could keep believing it. I was too…too devastated…" She choked back a sob. Harm's shoulder relaxed, then he scooted closer to her, taking her hand in his.

"Why? Why were you so devastated?"

"Because…the agency…you're too good a person to be with them. You belonged in the navy, and it was my fault you weren't anymore."

"Sarah, I told you before that resigning to find you was my choice, and I would do it again. And as for being 'too good'…I don't think that applies anymore."

She let his dig at himself go for the moment, taking some strength from the feel of his big hand surrounding hers. "I heard Webb welcome you to the CIA—I was outside the door of his room…and I wanted to run in there and tell you not to do it, to beg you not to do it…but instead I ran off and cried in the bathroom. By the time I got myself back together and came back, you were gone. And I knew that 'never' was the stupidest thing I've ever said."

"Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you ca—oh...right."

"I did try to call you that night, but that was the first time you didn't answer…and you know I tried again…sixteen more times."

"Sarah, honey, I'm so sorry about that…I was…angry. At everyone and everything. But I kept every single one of your messages. I'd listen to them whenever I got back from a mission. I needed to hear your voice."

"Why didn't _you_ call, then?"

"I was too mad at first, then embarrassed, and then…you were with Webb, and I was in my own hell."

Mac just nodded. She took a deep, shuddering breath, ready to speak again when Harm spoke instead.

"So, why did you mean the 'never' in Paraguay?"

"Of course, you would ask that." She hadn't looked forward to answering that question, though she knew it would be coming. "Oh, Harm…everything down there…was wrong. I had just been through something horrible. I prayed you would find me…and you did! But like I said…everything was wrong. I know there wasn't time for it—we had a mission to complete—but I just wanted you to hold me. Tell me it was going to be okay. Tell me you loved me…and you didn't."

Harm's mouth opened and he started to say something. Mac shook her head. "No, don't. Let me finish." Harm nodded.

"Then you were so jealous of Clay." She felt his body tense next to her. "There was nothing between Webb and I, not like that, at least not then." His body ever so slightly moved from hers. "But he nearly died—I didn't even know if he would survive despite getting out of there. I cared about him—still do, please don't be mad—and the things you said…honestly, I couldn't believe anyone who truly loved me would say those things and act the way you did. The fact that you gave up everything for me hadn't registered yet; by then, I wasn't quite in my right mind. I looked at you, standing there at the taxi stand, remembered all the times you and I argued, the constant push and pull…and suddenly it was so clear. 'Never.' We were never going to work, so I made sure to close that door completely. I'm sorry, Harm. So sorry. And I know I said horrible things down there to you too—and I'm so sorry for that. The 'never'—I was wrong. I tried to let you go, I started a relationship with Clay, and then spent most of our time together talking about you. I fucked everything up—it's my fault."

"Sarah, it wasn't all your fault. If I hadn't been so stubborn—so jealous…well, we wouldn't be in this place right now. I'm sorry."

She gave him a rueful smile. "Those words… 'I'm sorry'…it seems like that's all we say to each other anymore."

"Well…I, for one, have a lot to be sorry for, Mac."

"We both do, Harm."

They sat in silence for a while then, Mac going over all that had been said thus far. Harm had shifted closer to her again, their hands still joined. He entwined their fingers together and after a moment, she laid her head on his shoulder. She wondered if it was a good idea to be sitting so close to him when so much was still unsettled, but she sensed that Harm needed the closeness and she couldn't deny that it was comforting to be near him. And a lot warmer. She shivered a bit.

"Cold?" Harm asked.

"A little."

Harm pulled the blanket off her and slipped out of his jacket. He had an old sweater on that she assumed was Frank's, and, at her questioning gaze, he told her, "I'll be alright." He placed the jacket over her shoulders and she put her arms through the sleeves. He draped the blanket back over her, then reclaimed her hand.

It was a few minutes before Harm spoke again. "Mac, sometimes…sometimes your messages— _you_ —sounded so sad. Especially that last call…that's partly why I answered the next time…"

Mac ran a finger through the sand next to the blanket under her. "That was a bad night," she said, her voice almost too low to hear.

"What happened?"

Mac didn't want to answer, but she knew they both needed total honesty. "I bought a bottle of vodka."

"Oh, Mac…"

"I didn't drink it. After I hung up the phone I poured it down the sink. Harm, it's been…really hard for me lately…for months, really. There were days when the urge to drink would get so strong—I…I just needed to hear your voice…I didn't even know by that point what I would say to you if you picked up—but hearing you reminded me what you would think of me if I fell off the wagon—so I fought it. I guess I couldn't fight it so much that last time."

"Sarah, if you had taken a drink and I found out about it…I wouldn't think any different of you. I'd still love you."

Tears once again spilled over, and she gripped Harm's hand more tightly.

Harm leaned closer to her. "Sarah, can I—can I put my arm around you?"

She nodded, now being the one to move closer. Harm's arm went about her and she leaned her head against his chest. She cried silently for a few minutes and to her surprise, when she raised her head again, she saw a few tears had slipped down Harm's cheeks as well.

"Harm, there's so much we need to talk about—Paraguay, what's happened between us this year, what's happened in the years before that…but I think we need to talk about that night first. I'm having…difficulty…trusting you…emotionally." She spoke carefully. "Harm…when I was a teenager, my dad started to use certain names…tramp, slut…I was none of those things, but having them said to you so many times…it wears on you. I never truly believed those words…and although you didn't directly say them to me…well, I've never felt more like Joe MacKenzie's stupid tramp daughter than I did then."

Harm's breathing noticeably quickened. His arm moved from around her shoulders, and she worried he was angry with her. She studied him for a moment and it was clear it wasn't anger he felt. His face had lost some color, and tears were forming in his eyes. He swiped at them with his fingers then pinched the bridge of his nose.

"A lot of that feeling had to do with my own guilt—I cheated on Clay. So easily. I _was_ a sl-

Harm interrupted her. "Mac, don't you ever say that about yourself, ever." His voice was harsh. "I wish I could go back and beat the ever-loving shit out of Joe MacKenzie for saying that to you, and I wish someone would beat the hell out of me for making you feel that way. I'll never forgive myself for it. I really _don't_ have the right to love you. I lost it."

"Harm…you haven't lost the right to love me. I forgive you and I wish you would forgive yourself. I won't lie to you—I don't think I'll ever forget it. It hurt terribly, but I feel like I brought it at least in part on myself."

Harm started to protest but she shushed him. "Harm no matter what you say, it was still me who agreed to go with Clay, me who got captured, and me who lost you your job. I had made it so the CIA seemed like your only option. Harm, what happened? Why weren't you just flying?" Ever since she had read his letter, her mind conjured up all sorts of images of blood and death—to her, that _was_ the CIA.

Harm seemed to sink within himself. "Mac, I can't—it's all classified, anyway—but I've seen and done things—I've killed—I'm sorry, Mac. I'm just not ready. And I'm afraid you won't see me the same way anymore."

It was Mac's turn to take his hand in hers. She felt a tremor in it, and Harm's face was a mask of pain. "It's okay, Harm. The CIA…well, maybe they keep us all safe, and maybe we should be proud of our accomplishments working with them, but it all comes with a hefty price."

Harm nodded. Mac gave him time to compose himself, then asked another question that had been burning inside her after reading his letter. "Harm, you said Clay fired you…"

"He recommended it, had the pleasure of informing me, and sent me packing…not before telling me he'd tell you 'hi' from me. He, ah, brought you up a lot whenever we'd run into each other. I think he made it a point to seek me out."

Mac couldn't help feeling ashamed. She sensed his statements about Clay were honestly true, not products of his jealousy. "I'm sorry, Harm."

"No, Mac, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything about that. Besides, you are in no way responsible for what happened between me and Webb.

"Sarah, I'm sorrier than I can say about that night and the next. After I left you that first night, I went home and got rip-roaring drunk. I just wanted to forget what I had done to you. I spent the day hungover, tried to sleep…but I kept seeing your face. Finally, I gave up and drove to your place and, well, you know what happened next. I drove recklessly that night…I honestly didn't care at that point if I got myself killed."

Mac's heart broke for him. This past year had not been kind to either of them, and there would be scars that would remain for the rest of their lives. Mac leaned against him. "Harm, please believe it when I say I forgive you. We'll get past this. Be patient with me and I'll be able to trust you again, we'll be able to trust each other…I know it."

He kissed the crown of her head, then rested his cheek on it. "Thanks, Mac…Sarah."

Mac felt warmth seep through her. "You know, Harm, I've always loved it when you've called me Sarah. You make it sound like—like you're saying, 'I love you.'"

He kissed her hair again. "I am."

Mac smiled, but she had one more thing to ask of him. "Harm?"

"Yes, Sarah?" She smiled again at the use of her given name.

"Harm, please don't say…I mean, I know my relationships end horribly, I know I've made men miserable, I know they've even died because of me…but when you say it…it hurts. I know everyone who's been with me has either died or wishes they had…but you've said it three times now and I don't think I can handle a fourth." She did start to cry again, and Harm turned her to take her into his arms. She was once again surprised to see he was crying as well, and as they held each other close and he whispered his apologies to her, she felt something release in her. They would be okay. They would be friends again. She could have lived without him as a lover, but the loss of him as her friend had nearly killed her. Of course, she still didn't intend to love any other man but him.

"Harm, I've missed you, so much. Don't leave me again. I won't survive it." She clutched him closer to her.

"I won't, sweetheart, I promise." There was still a catch in his voice as he buried his face in her neck.

After long minutes, they pulled away from each other, smiling through the remnants of their tears.

"I love you, Mac."

"I love you, too, Harm"

"Do you think there can be an 'us' now?"

"I do, Harm."

He kissed her softly.

"I think we need to take it slowly, though." Mac looked hard into his eyes, afraid of his reaction. "No, ah, sex…not for awhile. We need to be friends again. We need to keep talking."

She was relieved when Harm nodded. "I agree…you know, Mac, I think we both did exactly what we wanted to do—what we had wanted for a long time. We just couldn't admit it, so we went about it in a way that was destructive. I don't want to mess this up—this is it for me. You're it. We'll take it as slow as we need to. And we'll talk. I promise."

"Some of it may not be pretty, Harm. We both come with a lot of baggage. Some of it shared…do you think we can handle it?"

"I think we can handle it together. If we take it slow, and if we're kind to ourselves and each other."

"It's going to be hard, though." Mac replied. Harm wiggled his eyebrows at her, and she blushed at the unintended double entendre.

"I know…but we both think it's important. I mean, it's not exactly like unscrewing a lightbulb…" Mac smacked him on the chest at his oh-so-romantic choice of words. He grinned and grabbed her hand before she could withdraw it, bringing it to his lips and kissing it lightly on the knuckles before letting it go again. "But we can do it…and when the time comes, it'll be more amazing than ever."

They smiled at each other for several beats, then Harm gave her a quick peck on the lips. "You ready to head back to the house? Mom and Frank are coming home to have lunch with us before we leave for the airport. I volunteered to make it, I need to shower yet, and my ass is starting to fuse itself to this beach."

Harm stood and held out his hand to help her up. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, she wrapped hers around his waist, and together they walked back up the path to the house.

 _End Chapter 20_

* * *

 _There's_ _still more to come._


	21. Good

_A/N: As always thanks for the reviews, follows, and faves!_

 **Delicate**

 **Chapter 21: Good**

 _1101 Local_

 _Burnett Residence_

 _La Jolla, CA_

Mac looked up from the red pepper she was chopping up when Harm walked into the kitchen. He had gone to shower while she volunteered to get started on lunch. His hair was still damp and tousled, his feet bare. Now clean-shaven, he was dressed in a button down linen shirt and khakis. She thought he looked very "California." He stepped up to her, looking at her progress over her shoulder, then leaned in to kiss her behind her ear. "Looks good, Mac."

She smiled as he gave her shoulder a quick squeeze before he headed to the Sub-Zero refrigerator, opening it and pulling out containers of marinating meat. He set them across from where she stood at the island located in the center of the large and well-appointed kitchen, then brought over a pan of bamboo skewers soaking in water. They were needed for the chicken and vegetable kebabs that were on the menu for today's lunch.

"When did you have time to get that ready?" Mac asked, referring to the pieces of chicken bathing in a heavenly-smelling marinade. She was surprised when he actually blushed.

"Uh, yesterday while you were up in the bath before I— "The flush on his cheeks deepened.

"Oh." Soon her blush matched his and she ducked her head. She focused solely on the zucchini she was now working on, feeling the flutter of butterflies in her stomach. It was going to be hard to keep their relationship less...sexual.

Harm cleared his throat. "Mac? Are you all packed?"

She met his eyes again. "Mostly. I still need to throw on some makeup— "

"You don't have to for me—you're beautiful just the way you are."

"Thanks, Harm—I'm doing it for me. But you're sweet."

She rewarded him with a beautiful smile that lit up her entire face.

Harm returned the smile, the love clear in his eyes. Mac realized then that she had seen that look in his eyes for years—she just didn't know what it meant until now. They grinned at each other stupidly for several seconds before Harm spoke again.

"Why don't you leave the rest of that for me," he said, motioning to the vegetables. "Take care of things upstairs. I'll put the kebabs together and start the grill, alright?"

"Sounds good, Harm." She set her knife down and wiped her hands on the towel next to her. She went around the island to him, then somewhat shyly stretched up to kiss him on the cheek. He turned toward her and caught her lips instead. The kiss was soft and gentle, and they were both careful not to take it too far. She stepped away from him and walked toward the door of the kitchen. She was halfway there before he called her back.

"Sarah?"

She turned around. "Yeah, Harm?"

"I love you."

She was embarrassed when happy tears filled her eyes. "I love you too." She turned toward the door again before any of the tears could fall, heart lighter than it had been in months.

Mac made it through the kitchen door but was suddenly struck by a thought. She whipped around, going back in. "Oh, god, Harm!"

Harm's head came up, concern in his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"The bed…my bed…your mom will know…"

"Know what?"

"That I didn't…that we…that I didn't sleep there last night. Oh my god…maybe I should mess it up a bit…"

Harm broke out into loud guffaws.

"It's not funny, Flyboy!"

He laughed even harder as she glared at him. "Dammit, Harm!"

He got himself under control, taking much too long to do so in Mac's opinion. "Don't worry about it, Mac."

"I'm so embarrassed."

"Why?"

 _Dear lord, was he that dense?_ "She'll know, Harm. She'll know we had… _sex!"_

Harm's eyes opened wide and realization seemed to dawn on him.

But then he burst into laughter again. Mac's glare intensified.

"Mac, I'm sure Mom figured out my days as a virgin were numbered when she caught me making out with Mattie Ross down by the pool when I was fifteen."

"And that didn't upset her?"

"Oh, she was furious. The next day she brought home a book from the library about STDs and made me sit there while she showed me pictures of deformed genitalia and told me all about the clap." He shuddered. "It got worse…she made Frank show me how to use a 'prophylactic' because, and I quote, 'if you're going to be running around putting little Harm where he doesn't belong, you should at least know how to protect yourself.' I don't think Frank nor I have eaten a banana since."

Mac chuckled in spite of herself. "I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall during _that_ conversation."

He laughed with her for a moment. "Mac, seriously…I think Mom knows there's something between us. When I called her before we left Washington, she asked me if we needed one room or two. She just laughed when I told her 'two.' 'Sure, Harm,' she said...she thinks you are 'quite the girl.'"

His expression turned serious. "I think you are quite the girl, too, Sarah." He wiped his hands on the towel she had used earlier and came around to where she was still standing. He leaned down and whispered close to her ear. "Quite the girl." He kissed her there and took her into his arms, lowering his lips to hers and giving her a kiss that made her toes curl. Once again, they broke it off before it became too heated.

He stepped away from Mac and turned her around by the shoulders, giving her a pat on her bottom. "Now, scoot. Let me get some work done."

She threw him a grin over a shoulder and headed upstairs.

* * *

 _1122 Local_

 _Burnett Residence_

 _La Jolla, CA_

Mac returned to the kitchen in time to see Harm putting the last kebab on a platter. He looked up as she entered, flashing his flyboy grin, and in general making her insides melt.

"Hey, Ninja Girl, you want to come out and keep me company while I grill these?" Mac once again felt tears pricking in her eyes. It had been so long since he'd called her that…

"Mac? You okay?" He was instantly concerned and immediately walked around the island to her. A tear escaped, and he brushed it away with the pad of his thumb. "What's wrong, baby?"

Mac gave him a watery smile and shook her head. "No, Harm. I think things are finally right." She saw understanding in his eyes as he pulled her into a tight embrace.

"So where is the grill?" Mac started to follow him out of the kitchen.

"Out on the terrace."

Mac couldn't cover the little gasp that slipped out. She stopped in place. It didn't take Harm long to realize that she wasn't following him anymore. "Mac? It'll be okay."

She nodded. She could do this. _Just breathe, Marine._

Harm set the kebabs on a little table near the grill. Mac had managed to make it out the door but immediately sat down on the bench that was near it. It was as far as she was willing to go.

Harm pulled the grill closer to her and made sure it was ready. He started adding the kebabs to it, looking over his shoulder to speak to Mac. "Hey, Mac. It's pretty nice out here…we could eat here and enjoy the view before we have to head out."

"No!" was Mac's immediate response. "No," she said again, her tone a little softer.

"Mac, we're safe here, I promise."

"You can't promise that," she mumbled.

"I suppose I can't, but it'll be okay out here. I'm sure of it."

"Harm…I'd like to, but I just can't. The dream…it was too real, too vivid. I'm not ready yet." She stood up suddenly. "I'm sorry, Harm. Maybe I'll just head back inside, okay?"

Harm hastily put the last kebab on the grill and stepped up to Mac. "Honey, I'm sorry I pushed you." He put his arm around her and used his other hand to grasp her now icy cold one. He eased her back down on the bench, then sat beside her.

He didn't say anything right away, and his expression started to morph in to that serious face he always had on when he was about bring something up that she might not like.

"Mac, your nightmares…you have them a lot." It was more of a declaration than a question.

"Um, not as bad as I first had them…and I hadn't had one of those like I had here for weeks."

"You've had one nearly every time we've spent the night with each other."

She looked at him with confusion. "Harm, I don't remember—"

"No, I got you calmed down before they woke you up. It was…ah…the only time you'd let me hold you."

Her eyes snapped up at his. "What?"

"Mac, it was what would wake me up. You'd start to get restless, talk in your sleep. I'd pull you close, and you'd stop."

"Oh…I didn't know that."

They sat in silence for a moment. "Mac? What are the dreams about?"

"Ummm…they're about Paraguay." _Of course._

"I figured. What happens?"

Mac started to fidget in her seat, her fingernails raking up and down her thighs. "Harm, can we not talk about this? Your parents will be here soon."

"They won't be here for another thirty minutes. And I think you _should_ talk about it. Um, are they about Webb…the torture?"

She stared at her lap and nodded. "I listened to him scream for hours…it was…it was awful. I can't get it out of my head."

"I would imagine not. Have you thought about—"

"But sometimes in the dream it would be you being tortured instead…or it was me and you'd be taunting me right along with them…" Her eyes snapped up. "Oh god, Harm. I'm sorry."

His arm around her shoulders tightened and pulled her closer to his body. "Mac, it's okay. You can't help your dreams." He kissed her temple. "Sarah, have you talked to anyone about this?"

"Just Clay. And now you." She spoke into his chest.

"Anyone professionally?" She shook her head after a moment.

"Don't you think you should?"

"I've made it this far without it." Her tone was defensive. Harm started to rub soothing circles over her hand with this thumb.

"Sarah, you mean you didn't even talk to someone right after? No one from the CIA? Admiral Chegwidden didn't insist? You just went back to work after…everything?"

"Yeah, I did. And no, I didn't talk to anyone then. The CIA…well I wasn't really CIA, so… And Admiral Chegwidden…he wouldn't…he didn't…I don't think he cared to…" She so didn't want to talk about the admiral.

"Sarah…I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I assumed they would send you to someone after all of that."

"I'm okay, Harm."

"Mac, just hear me out. I think you _do_ need to talk to someone. Someone who knows about PTSD. I know you aren't sleeping well."

"I've slept fine with you."

"And so have I, with you. But you're still restless and two nights ago…I don't know how many of those you can go through. And you're always just so tired."

"I'll think about it."

"Please do. I mean, I've found it really helpful."

Her head snapped up at that. "You?"

Harm nodded.

"Since when?"

"Um, since after I got fired…after I came to your apartment that week."

"Why?" Mac was a bit shocked that Harm had actually sought out counseling. He was a man, for one, and he could be such the arrogant fighter jock. She had actually thought he should see a counselor several times during their partnership. Losing his father, the long search for answers…that alone would fill a year's worth of sessions. _So why can't you allow yourself to seek a counselor's help as well?_

Harm sighed. "Mac, you won't want to hear this, and I'm so sorry, but when Webb was in the middle of firing me…I felt such a rage. I'm sorry, Mac. At that moment I felt perfectly capable of killing him. I pictured myself killing him. I was actually afraid that if he stayed around me much longer I would kill him. I, uh, have had to kill with my bare hands…in Paraguay and for…for the CIA…please don't ask me about it, but the idea that I could be capable of that…the fact that I had killed easily before…the missions…and then what I did to you…I knew I needed help. I'd been angry for so long…I basically disappeared from everyone's life, including my parents…I just couldn't keep going on like that. The counseling has really helped. I'm still not…whole, I still have trouble with my CIA time, but my own nightmares are rare now, and look at us! I want you to find some peace again, too, sweetheart. You deserve it. And I _am_ sorry about Webb, what I thought about him. He was once a friend…Um, you know, I actually had my first session that first day I came to JAG to review the Imes cases. I go once a week now."

"Harm, I doubt any of the killing was done 'easily.'" The haunted look in his eyes confirmed that, as did the slight shake of his head. Mac cursed the CIA for what it had done to all of them, to Clay, to Harm, to her. Mac made a decision. If Harm could do it, so could she. She could and should go to a counselor. She still had many reservations, most of which she couldn't even articulate…but to have some peace…to be free of the nightmares…

"Okay, Harm. I'll-I'll go. I'll make an appointment as soon as we get back. I-I promise."

"Wonderful, Sarah." He gave her another squeeze and then withdrew his arm. "Now, I'd better check those kebabs. You okay, now?"

She wasn't, not entirely, but she did feel better. However… "Harm, I still can't eat out here…it's still too fresh. Please…"

He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "It's okay, Mac. We'll eat inside. And by eat, I mean actually eat. I worry about you, honey."

"I will, Harm. It smells delicious. I—I've missed your cooking."

Harm went back to the grill, checked on the meat, then closed it back up. On impulse, she left the safety of her bench and put her arms around him from behind. She squeezed him tightly, feeling the comfort of his strong back against her cheek. He covered her hands with his, then turned in her embrace. He leaned down, and his lips brushed hers gently before drawing them in. He slowly deepened the kiss, until she felt his tongue begging entrance to her mouth, and she willingly opened it for him. Their tongues caressed each other for a brief moment, then he drew back a little, his kiss gentling and ending with that soft brush against her lips again. She sighed against his mouth, reveling in the feel of being loved by Harmon Rabb, Jr. She couldn't resist one more touch of his lips, so she reached up for one final kiss.

Which is how Harm's parents found them.

* * *

 _1317 Local_

 _Burnett Residence_

 _La Jolla, CA_

"Well, kids, that was wonderful," Trish said, pushing away her plate and dabbing her lips with her napkin. "I'm sorry you have to leave so soon, and I'm sorry we didn't have more time to visit." She smiled warmly at the two younger people at her table. Actually, she hadn't quit smiling since she and Frank had walked in on Harm and Mac kissing. For that matter, neither had Frank. Or Harm. Mac was a bit embarrassed by it all, but Trish's glances at her were still friendly, motherly even, and Trish had told her over their lunch that she was welcome to come back anytime. Frank seconded that.

Harm stood from the table and started picking up plates. "Oh, leave them, sweetie, I'll take care of them." Mac had to grin at Harm's mother's endearment for him.

Harm took Mac's hand and helped her up from her chair in the informal dining room. The room was so elegant to her eyes that she had to wonder what the 'formal' dining room was like. "Well, Mom, Frank. We'd better start heading to the airport, but are you sure we can't help with this?" Harm asked, gesturing to the now mostly empty dishes covering the cherry wood table.

"No, no, Harm. You two need to get going. Your mother and I will clean up." Frank stood up from the table as well. "It was good to have you both, Harm." He held out his hand to his step-son, but instead of shaking the proffered hand, Harm pulled Frank into a brief embrace.

"Thank you, Frank. It was good to be back here again. To see you both."

The foursome walked to the front door, where their bags sat waiting for them. Mac found herself being pulled into a gentle embrace by Frank. He gave her a brief peck on her cheek. "It was good to finally meet you, Mac. Harm has been telling us about you for years." She thanked him for his hospitality, then turned to Harm's mother. Harm had picked up both their bags and had stepped out to take them to the rental car.

"Trish, thank you so much for having us—me. It was lovely here."

"Oh, you're welcome, Mac. And I mean it…come back anytime. Even if you aren't traveling with Harm. You'll always have a place here." Once again Mac felt the prick of tears.

Trish pulled her close in a warm embrace. She kissed Mac's cheek as well, and then whispered something into Mac's ear.

"Welcome to the family, dear."

 _End Chapter 21_


	22. I Like You

_A/N: Just a brief little interlude for Harm and Mac to connect…a little sweet, a little sappy, but didn't we all want to see that from them? Plus, they need a little calm before the storm. Yes, the angst will return—can't make it too easy for our dynamic duo. And I have to admit I've never seen Citizen Kane. For all I know it could be the most epic film ever produced. I have, however, seen (well, slept through)_ The Age of Innocence. _Thought it was terribly boring and I was so disappointed since I so wanted to like it. Unfortunately, when I tried to watch it again, same outcome._

 **Delicate**

 **Chapter 22: I Like You**

 _1831 Local_

 _Mac's Apartment_

 _Georgetown_

"Favorite movie?" Harm sat across from Mac, contemplating the _Scrabble_ board between them. It was Thanksgiving Day, and they had headed to Mac's after thoroughly stuffing themselves with Harriet's excellent dinner.

"That depends…you mean comedy, romantic comedy, drama, romance, romantic drama, adventure, action? Or musical?"

"No, I mean your _favorite._ All time best." They were playing a game of "Getting to Know You" in addition to a rather lazy game of _Scrabble._ Of course, they _knew_ each other, and at one time they likely knew the answers to many of each other's questions, but this was their way of rekindling their friendship, a way to repair what the last year had wrought. They would generally start with benign subjects and work their way to more serious topics. Mac had decided along with Harm that they needed to work through the various traumas and misunderstandings they'd had through the last nine years before they could take their relationship to the next level.

"Well," said Mac thoughtfully. "I suppose it would be…Harm, I really don't have just one favorite movie. Hey, are you going to play or pass? The board hasn't changed in the last five minutes."

Harm set down one of his tiles on the board. Mac glanced over to his new word.

" _It?!_ You spent six minutes and thirty-five seconds for ' _it?!'_ Two whole points. Wow. I'd better watch my six in this game."

"Can it, Marine. And it's four points." He lifted the 'I' up again. "See? Double word score." He looked adorably smug.

"Okay, Harm. Good play. Brilliant even." He smirked at her.

"Come on, Mac, what movie will you watch over and over?"

"Ummmmm, Citizen Kane?"

"Right, Mac. You fell asleep not twenty minutes in when I brought it over that one time. You drooled on my shoulder."

"I did not!" She cried indignantly, knowing full well that's exactly what she had done.

Harm just stared at her, a knowing look in his eye. Finally, she laughed. "Okay, Harm. Yes. I thought it was terribly dull. But you did the same thing when we watched _The Age of Innocence."_

"So did you."

She smiled at the memory. "Yeah, I did…we drooled on each other then. If only we knew then what we know now…" She winked at Harm as she set down her tiles.

Harm grinned at her stupidly for a moment then looked down at her play. "'Jack?' So that's _your_ brilliant move?"

"Seventy-five points, dear," she said as she smugly showed him the double letter/triple word bonuses.

"Well done, Mac," he finally conceded. "So, your _real_ favorite?"

She thought for a moment. "Don't laugh, Harm. It's _Cinderella."_

"Like the Disney cartoon? With the talking mice?"

"Yeah." She ducked her head, looking at her lap for a few seconds before raising only her eyes to him. He had a soft smile on his face, tenderness in his eyes. "I saw it in the theater when I was six. They were doing a special showing of it and my mom actually took me. It was a good memory."

"I think that's sweet. How come I've never seen it here? You must have your own copy."

"I, uh, keep it hidden."

"Didn't want anyone to know you weren't all big, bad marine, eh?"

"No…I didn't want you to know."

He was a little taken aback by that, she could tell. "Oh," was all he said.

They finished their game, Mac soundly beating Harm. He helped her put the game away, then took her hand and led her to the living room. "Go get it."

"Get what?" she asked, confused.

"The movie. _Cinderella._ We're going to watch it."

"You just want to make fun of it."

"No, Mac. I just want to see the little girl you used to be. I bet you were adorable." He kissed her on the nose. "Now go get it."

Mac rolled her eyes at him but did go into her room and pulled the movie out from under her bed. Watching _Cinderella_ in the theater _was_ a good memory. Her mom seemed as excited as the young Sarah, and they got popcorn for during the movie and then ice cream after. To her six-year-old self, it was like her birthday and Christmas all in one. Her father was out of town, so the two MacKenzie girls made it their little secret.

She returned to her living room to find Harm sitting in the corner of her couch. She put the video in and sat next to Harm, who immediately put his arm around her and cuddled her close. Mac sighed contentedly. In the week since they had returned from San Diego, they had spent nearly every waking minute outside of work together. They had always gone back to their respective apartments at night; neither one wanted to risk crossing that sexual line again so soon. They would chat, cuddle, and of course kiss, and just thoroughly enjoyed their new closeness. And ever so delicately, they began to tear down the walls that their pasts had built.

The movie ended with Mac stretched out on the couch, head in Harm's lap. He spent the movie running his fingers through her hair, making her feel all floaty and, well, loved.

"That was cute, Sarah. I haven't seen it since I was a little kid…actually I've never seen the second half of it—the film was eaten by the projector, so they sent us all home."

Mac rolled from her side onto her back so she could look up at Harm. "You know, Harm? When I first saw you in the Rose Garden, I thought you looked like Prince Charming would if he were real."

Harm blushed a little. "You did?"

"Oh yes. And then the way you saved me and Uncle Matt…well it was pretty clear you actually were a prince. I think I probably started to fall in love with you right then, Harm."

"So, when did you know?" Harm caressed her cheek with his thumb, then ran a finger along her collarbone.

"You mean, when did I _know_ I loved you?"

Harm nodded.

"Well, I knew I loved you when you got me away from those poachers."

"So—"

Mac interrupted, not quite finished with her revelations.

"And I knew I was _in_ love with you in Russia."

"First or second time?"

"First. I was watching you sleep on that little couch. You were restless, obviously dreaming, and suddenly it dawned on me why I was there. It wasn't just to watch your six…it was because I couldn't live without your six."

Mac started to awkwardly push herself up. Harm helped her up, pulling her close so she was now sitting on his lap. She rested her head against his shoulder, hand on his chest, fingers slipping in between the buttons of his shirt.

"I wish you would have told me then." He spoke softly, leaning his head down to hers.

"Would you have been ready to hear it?"

Harm sighed. "No, probably not. I knew I felt something for you that was more than friendship…but searching for my dad…that pretty much blocked everything else out."

"And when that was over, you went to Jordan." As much as Renee irritated her, she had never truly disliked her; she could admit with some chagrin that she likely hadn't minded Renee so much because she never actually considered Renee a legitimate threat. Jordan was a different story. While Renee was smart, basically good-hearted, and beautiful if in a more shellacked kind of way, Jordan was exactly the kind of woman she could see Harm with. Mac hadn't liked Jordan, knowing full well that a lot of that was due to jealousy. The rest had to do with Jordan's smug, all knowing attitude.

Mac had felt rather humiliated the night of Bud's wetting down after being promoted. She, Jordan, and Carolyn Imes had sat at a table in McMurphy's, Jordan asking what she, Mac, thought of Harm's prowess in bed. Mac obviously had no opinion on that, and she felt Jordan was just rubbing in the fact that she had Harm, and good ol' Mac was still relegated to the friend zone.

And then came the crack about how she, Jordan, would only have Harm until Mac decided she wanted him. Mac immediately felt self-conscious, wondering if she was giving off some vibe, something that indicated her true feelings about Harm. Embarrassed and hurt, she excused herself to the bathroom at her first opportunity, taking several minutes to calm herself down.

For some time after that, she tried to hold herself back from Harm, not wanting to appear too eager to be near him. He finally asked her what in hell had he done to piss her off 'this time.' She told him it was nothing, of course; Harm, ostensibly because he didn't want the 'situation' to escalate as it had done prior to their being sent to the _Watertown_ a couple of months before, had shown up at her apartment with her favorite cheesecake and a little bouquet of flowers. He looked so contrite over something he hadn't even done that she had impulsively hugged him, then kissed his cheek and invited him in. They shared the cheesecake and talked about nothing in particular, Mac knowing full well that she could never really stay away from Harm. Not for long, anyway. She became aware that Harm had just said something to her.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" Mac asked.

"I said I was sorry."

"About what?"

"About Jordan."

She looked blankly at him for a few seconds before she realized what he meant. "Oh, no, Harm, that's nothing you need to be sorry for."

"You didn't like Jordan very much, did you?"

"I was jealous of her."

"Why?"

She pulled her head up from his shoulder to look him in the eye. "I would think that would be obvious. She had you."

He looked a bit embarrassed. "Oh." He pulled her tighter to him. "You know, Mac, I once said your name in bed with her."

 _Oh dear._

"I mean, not while we were, you know...ah, having you know, relations."

 _Relations? Oh, please stop, Harm._ She didn't want to imagine him in bed with anyone else, but, then again, it was amusing to see his face pinking up again. She didn't know he was so capable of blushing.

"So, when, Harm?"

"Well, it was after. We were about to fall asleep and I kissed Jordan and said, 'Goodnight, Mac.' I immediately apologized, but she just waved it away. She said I was bound to slip up since we worked so closely together. And you and I had just gotten back from the _Coral Sea_ where all those mishaps were happening so obviously we had just spent a lot more time together."

"The _Coral Sea?_ Right before Bud's wetting down?"

"I dunno, I suppose so."

 _Well that explained a few things._

"Harm, did Jordan ever tell you that she told me she would likely only have you until I decided I wanted you?"

"She said _what?!_ Um, no, no she didn't. She really said that?"

Mac nodded.

"Well, that was probably true."

"It didn't work in Sydney." She stiffened in Harm's arms.

"Mac…about that night…

"No, it's okay, Harm…we need to talk about that sometime, but let's save it for another night."

Harm agreed, and she relaxed again in his arms.

"Harm, Jordan was really lovely, and I so appreciated what she did for Chloe that night we were stuck at JAG, and I'm sorry about what happened to her, but no…no I didn't like her. She, um, she actually reminded me of Cinderella, and who better to be with the prince than Cinderella?"

He gave her a tender smile. "Well, this prince prefers his woman in combat boots instead of glass slippers."

She smirked at him. "His woman? You caveman, you."

"You like it."

"Can't deny that." Mac started to kiss Harm along his jaw, gradually working her way to his lips. God, how this man could kiss. The now very common feeling of arousal started to arc through her core, and she felt his own arousal grow between them.

Their lips caressed each other, their tongues danced, and Mac could feel the heat building between them. Unfortunately, that was her cue to stop.

"We gotta take a break, Harm." Harm backed off and rested his forehead against hers.

"I want you so much, Sarah."

"And I want you…but we both know we're not ready."

Harm nodded. He gently lifted her off of him and set her down beside him. They took the time to collect themselves. It was difficult denying themselves this release, but Mac knew it was for the best.

"What time is Harriet picking you up tomorrow for…shopping." Harm shuddered. The last thing one would find him doing was shopping on the day after Thanksgiving.

"0600."

"Why the hell so early?"

"The deals, Harm. The deals." _He really had to ask?_ She turned slightly toward him and slipped an arm around his waist. "What are you doing with your day off tomorrow?" She leaned against him, unable to resist snuggling closer again. She started to rub his belly with her hand, enjoying the feel of his rock-hard abs beneath his shirt.

"Hmmmmm, probably sit around in my boxers scratching myself until the little woman comes home."

"The little woman, huh? And what is she doing right now?"

"Oh, she's probably getting a rise out of someone." Mac looked down, having unknowingly worked her hand lower, slipping her fingers under his waistband. Once again, Harm was noticeably aroused. Mac immediately moved her hand and scooted to the other end of the couch.

"I'm sorry Harm." She didn't really regret it though. Now that she was free to touch him at leisure, she wanted to, well, _touch_ him.

Harm laughed. "I know, baby. Me too. And on that note, I'd better go. Still coming over on Saturday?"

"Of course." He flashed his flyboy grin and stood up from the couch, grabbing his coat off the rack when he reached the door.

"You gonna kiss me goodbye, Sarah?"

"You think that's a good idea?"

"One of my best."

"Okay…but no tongue." His tongue in her mouth made her think of his tongue in other places, and she wasn't sure she could resist her urges anymore tonight.

He chuckled a bit. "Sure, hon. No tongue."

She got up from the couch and walked over to him, sliding her hands over his chest to wrap her arms around his neck. He bent his head towards her and took her lips in a soft, gentle, perfectly chaste kiss. Of course, he ruined it by giving her lips a little lick as he moved his head away. She gasped at the sensation, which gave Harm the opportunity to recapture her lips with his and slide his tongue in to meet hers, which led to another round of passionate kissing. Harm pulled back first, giving her lips one last little nip. "Bye, Sarah. I love you."

"I love you too."

Harm's flyboy grin returned, and he gave her a wave before he opened her door and stepped into the hall. Mac closed the door behind him, giving a little shiver at all the sensations that man created in her. She was about to step away to get things ready for tomorrow, when a knock came at the door. She turned around and opened it; as expected, it was Harm, looking sheepish.

"What did you forget, Harm?"

"This." He swept her up in his arms, her feet leaving the ground. His lips once again found hers and they tasted each other for a few more moments before he set her back down, grinned, and finally left.

Mac touched her fingers to her lips. They were still tingling, and she felt the remnants of his touch all the way to her toes. She wanted to give a giddy shout, open the windows, and announce to the world that Harmon Rabb, Jr. loved her. _Harm loves me._

 _Prince Charming loves me._

 _End Chapter 22_


	23. Tossing, Turning

_A/N: Another little interlude for Harm and Mac. I would have written a longer chapter, but I think this is a good place to break it up, and it will let me post something today. Thanks for reading!_

 **Delicate**

 **Chapter 23: Tossing, Turning**

 _Saturday after Thanksgiving_

 _1849 Local_

 _Harm's Apartment_

 _North of Union Station_

"This is wonderful, Harm," Mac said as she lifted one last forkful of pasta to her mouth. "I really did miss your cooking."

Harm grinned. "So you've said."

Mac turned thoughtful. "Or maybe it has more to do with what went along with the food…just being here with you, talking about anything and everything, going over cases…you made that fun."

Harm had stood up to gather up dishes. As he reached over her shoulder to grab her plate, he kissed the top of her head. "Same here, Mac."

Mac stood as well and helped Harm with the rest of the dishes. "Let's wash these up and then have dessert," Harm said as he started filling the sink. "I made that chocolate mousse that you like."

"Then let's get this done quickly," Mac said, giving Harm a quick squeeze around his waist as she moved up beside him.

They worked companionably, Harm washing, Mac drying. They would have been done fairly quickly if they hadn't stopped to kiss and tease one another. Mac nearly dropped one of Harm's plates when he leaned over and gave her a little lick around the curve of her ear. "Dammit, Harm," she giggled. She felt relaxed and happy for once; it was just like the easy, earlier days of their friendship. Well, perhaps not exactly… Harm hadn't previously rested his hand on her six the way he was doing now as he put a plate up in the cupboard. But Mac certainly wasn't complaining.

Dishes now clean and put away, they sat side by side on the couch, Mac savoring each bite of the velvety chocolate dessert Harm had created. He had given half of his serving to her as well, so, hands now empty, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she snuggled in.

"When's your appointment with the—"

"The shrink?" Mac interrupted Harm. He nodded. Some of her good humor of the evening left her and she felt herself stiffen up. Harm just gripped her tighter, drawing her closer into his side. "It's Monday at 0730. I'll be a little late for work, but Dr. McCool didn't have any later times for another two weeks." She wanted to get started as soon as possible in hopes of finishing as soon as possible.

"Nervous?"

"No…yes…I don't know." Mac looked down at the remnants of her dessert. "This is not something I'm going to be comfortable with."

Harm leaned over and kissed her temple. "I know. I won't lie to you—it was really hard to walk in there that first time. I didn't know what to expect. I had images of lying on a couch, being asked about my 'mommy issues' and being accused of having an Oedipal complex. I can happily say it wasn't like that."

"Well, Dr. McCool may still take that approach…besides, we both know damn well I have 'mommy' issues. 'Daddy' issues, too, for that matter. But I just want to get past all the Paraguay stuff, stop having nightmares, stop panicking when the adm—" She cut herself off.

"Panicking?"

"Nothing, Harm." She prayed he would drop it, cursing herself for saying too much.

"No, it's not nothing. You were about to say the admiral, weren't you?"

"Harm..." She did not want to talk about this.

"Mac…I've noticed—"

Mac abruptly stood up, grabbing the two small dessert bowls and walking across the room to the kitchen area. She started rinsing them in the sink, ignoring Harm as he came up behind her.

" _Maaaaac…"_

"Don't, Harm."

"Mac, I just want to—"

"I don't want to talk about the admiral." Her voice took on a steely quality, and she knew tears weren't that far behind. That pissed her off. Where was the tough, kick-ass Marine she was even a year ago? "Harm, it's late. I should get home." She shut off the water and stepped away from him, still not looking at him.

"It's barely eight o'clock. On a Saturday."

"I'm tired." She grabbed her coat off the rack. Harm slipped around her, blocking the door.

"Mac, don't go. Not when you're upset. I won't ask about it anymore…I didn't mean to push you."

Mac warred with herself. Finally, she let the coat slip back down her arms. Harm took it from her and hung it back up, then tentatively put his arm around her. She let him lead her back to the couch. Once she was settled again, this time with a few inches between them, he spoke softly. "I'm sorry."

She didn't say anything for several seconds, until she finally sighed and slumped against him. "No, Harm, I'm sorry. You were only trying to help."

Harm brought his other arm around her. Now, firmly locked in his embrace, she forced herself to relax. She felt bad about her reaction. She knew Harm was just concerned, but this was one subject she wasn't willing to discuss. It was…embarrassing, to say the least. She rested her head against his chest.

He held her like that for several minutes, and she could feel herself starting to nod off. She yawned. "I'm sorry, Harm. I _am_ tired. Last night I had another one of those dreams…I've been up since 0234."

"Mac, why didn't you say anything? You could have at least taken a nap here instead of going on that run with me."

Mac mumbled something against his chest.

"Pardon?"

She leaned back a little. "I said, I needed the run. It blocks things out. And as for a nap…I really wasn't too anxious to sleep again so soon."

"Sarah, honey? Next time, call me when that happens. No matter what time."

She was touched at his offer, but that wouldn't be fair to him. "Oh Harm, thank you, but you shouldn't be woken up just because I can't get it together."

"No, Mac. I _want_ you to. Promise me you will."

She thought about it for a minute, then finally nodded. She lifted her face to his, kissing him on the jaw. "Okay, Harm. I promise. But you're probably going to regret it."

"Not a chance, Marine."

Mac yawned again. "Harm, I probably should go. I want to get home while I'm still certain I won't fall asleep at the wheel."

"You could stay here."

Mac sat up. "Harm, we talked about that…we still have so many things to talk about."

Harm reached out his hand, caressing her cheek. "I mean, you can just sleep here. I'll take the couch."

It was a tempting offer…she didn't really want to be alone after last night's nightmare, a dream that featured Sadik taunting her, the replay of the missionaries being shot right in front of her, the sight of Clay lying strapped to a table, eyes open and dead, rivers of blood surrounding him. In her dream she told herself to hang on, that Harm was coming. Except he wasn't. Where once it was Clay on the table, there lay Harm, just as dead as Clay had been, his blood joining with the blood already spilled on the floor. She woke with a scream, praying once she calmed down that she hadn't awoken any of her neighbors. However, she knew if she were to stay here, she would want Harm next to her. If it was as he said, that he had held her those nights to soothe away the nightmares, she wanted that again. Peace. But she didn't want to make him uncomfortable, and she certainly didn't want their closeness to turn intimate. Not yet.

"Thank you, Harm. But I really should go home. I don't have anything here, and we're picking up AJ right after early church, remember? We're taking him to that showing of _Finding Nemo."_

"Oh, right. Tell me, why did we agree to do that again?"

"Because we love our godson."

"True. Just not sure taking a four-and-a-half-year-old to a theater is the greatest idea we've ever had."

"It'll be fine. Harriet said he does great." She stood up from the couch, once again crossing the room to get her coat. She figured Harm would get up as well to see her out and was surprised he was still sitting on the couch, looking a little stunned. "Harm? What's wrong?" He didn't answer. "Harm?"

Finally, his focus returned. He gave her a little half smile. "Nothing's wrong, Mac. I was just thinking…AJ's going to be five on his next birthday."

Mac felt her face warm. She knew exactly what he was thinking about. "Yes, he will be." She gave him a soft smile as well.

"You know what that means…" He still made no move to get up.

"Yes, Harm. I know."

"The baby deal." His eyes bore into hers.

"U-huh." Her heart beat a little faster, the same way it always did when she awoke on Little AJ's birthday. _Four years to go. Now three. Two. One…_ But the way this year had gone, she figured the deal was null and void. Just as much as it would have been if she had actually married Mic three years ago.

Harm finally got up and walked toward her. He gently grasped her shoulders, looking down at her tenderly. "I still want to," he whispered.

Mac's voice was low as well. "Me too." At that, Harm pulled her closer, lowering his head, lips caressing hers before drawing them into a lingering kiss.

"I love you, Sarah."

"I love you too, Harm."

They kissed again, and Mac decided if she didn't leave now, she never would. "Goodnight, Harm. I'll see you tomorrow. Don't be late." She tempered the command with a gentle smile.

"I won't. Here, let me walk you down." She would have protested; she could make it outside on her own, but she learned long ago that Harm would never let her walk out alone into the night in this neighborhood. Never mind that she had often walked _in_ on her own at night.

They took the stairs, the elevator once again out of service. Once they reached the door of the building, Harm stepped in front of her to open it for her. "Uh, Mac?"

"Yeah, Harm?" He motioned for her to look outside. Mac leaned around him. A blast of cold air hit her.

"You're not going anywhere."

"I'm not going anywhere," they said at once.

* * *

 _2134 Local_

 _Harm's Apartment_

 _North of Union Station_

"Harm, I can't let you sleep on the couch. Take your bed."

"Mac, there's no way I'm letting you sleep out here, so don't even suggest it."

" _Haaaarm."_ She wanted once again to protest this little bit of chivalry, but just as he wouldn't give in and let her walk to her car alone, he wouldn't, once offered, take back his bed.

She hesitated before speaking again. "Then, just sleep there, too."

He appeared to mull it over for a minute. "Mac, I'd like nothing better, but I don't want to risk it. My willpower has not been greatest lately where it concerns you."

She could understand that sentiment. Her willpower was a bit weak as well. "Okay, Harm. But if it gets too uncomfortable out here for you, at least let me switch with you."

"Sure, Mac." Of course, Mac knew he would never do that.

"Harm, did you know there was going to be a blizzard? And how did we miss it happening?"

Harm shook his head. "I had no idea. And as for not noticing…how could I notice that when all I could see was you?"

"Flyboy, that's so—" she paused.

"Sweet?"

"Sappy." They both chuckled.

"Sappy, yes. But true." He leaned forward and kissed her nose. She turned to get changed into the t-shirt he had lent her to sleep in, but he pulled her back around, taking her in his arms and giving her a proper kiss. "Goodnight, Mac. Sleep well."

"'Night, Harm."

They both settled in for the night, Mac surrounded by Harm's unique scent that clung to his bedding. She snuggled in and called out an 'I love you' to her tall, handsome naval commander. She fell asleep almost before he was done answering in kind.

* * *

 _0438 Local_

 _Harm's Apartment_

 _North of Union Station_

Mac awoke to the sound of the wind howling outside. It was still dark, wouldn't be daylight for hours, and she let her eyes start to drift shut. It was then that she realized there was a firm body pressed up against her back, a heavy arm thrown over her waist. She started to pull away, but the arm tightened.

"It's okay, Sarah." Harm's voice whispered into her hair. She wasn't sure if he was awake or still asleep.

"Harm?"

"Yeah, honey?" It seemed he was actually awake.

"It happened again, didn't it." A nightmare, of course. She didn't remember it, but felt shadows of it fading away, felt the vague sense of anxiety she always felt when waking up like this.

"Yeah, it did." He kissed her hair.

"When?"

"A little after 0200. You started to talk in your sleep—started to sound more distressed. So I came in. I hope that was okay?"

She nodded. "Yes. Thank you. I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Waking you up again. My nightmares shouldn't be your problem, too."

"Mac, turn around, please."

She didn't move. "Sarah, please."

She finally rolled over, and his legs immediately opened to let hers in between. He pressed her against him, holding her impossibly close. She let herself wrap an arm around his torso, feeling the strength of his muscled back under her hand, feeling the beat of his heart against her lips.

"Sarah, I don't consider it a problem. And anyway, I'm glad I'm here. I'm glad I can comfort you. I want to help you through this. It's _not_ a problem. I only wish I could take all the nightmares away from you. I know what it's like to be ripped from sleep by them. I know what it's like to not be able to get them out of your head no matter how hard you try during the day."

Mac was embarrassed that hot tears were now coursing down her cheeks, wetting Harm's chest as well. She had never cried so much in all her life but knew it was telling that she let her guard down around Harm. She never did that with Clay, no matter how bad the nightmares were, no matter how hard it was to get through the days. She hadn't done that with anyone, really. Just Harm. She let him stroke her hair and back until she stopped crying, finally kissing his chest, saying, "Thank you."

He kissed her hair again. "You're welcome. Now sleep, honey. I'll be here."

She took a few deep breaths, inhaling his scent, letting his gentle caresses soothe her, and finally drifted off to a blessedly dreamless sleep.

 _End Chapter 23_


	24. Lights Up

_A/N: Welcome to Chapter 24! I was asked in a review how soon Sadik would show up…the answer is, I am not sure, but he will. I am still surprised how long this story has gotten and how it has changed since the original idea popped into my head. Dr. McCool shows up in this chapter. I never liked how she was written in the show…I always felt that while the character of Mac needed someone to challenge her in therapy, she also needed some mothering. I wish she_ had _met Harm's parents…I think Trish would have loved her. Anyway, this McCool is different…I like her even less than the "real" McCool. I based her on a therapist I had once who insisted I only became a doctor so my alcoholic father would love me. Well…really and truly not the case. This is not to say that she wasn't accurate in some of her assessments or that having my father drink didn't affect me in other ways, but…anyway, on with the show._

 **Delicate**

 **Chapter 24: Lights Up**

 _Sunday after Thanksgiving_

 _0814 Local_

 _Harm's Apartment_

 _North of Union Station_

Mac woke up feeling oddly refreshed. Odd because most mornings she woke up either still feeling the nagging fatigue the had been her companion for months, or else feeling as if she had never gone to sleep in the first place. Not this time, though. This time she felt energized, content, and warm. Very, very warm.

Mac was pleased to find she was spooned against Harm, his arm possessively thrown over her. He held her firmly, one leg lying over her body, and she could feel his semi-hard manhood against her back. She shifted her hips a bit to get more comfortable, a little sore from lying in one spot for so long, and felt his penis twitch in response. She smiled and stilled, not wanting to wake him up, wanting to enjoy being nestled snuggly against him for a while longer. Her efforts failed, however.

"Morning, beautiful," he murmured, his breath whispering over her cheek. His hand started to rub circles over her stomach and his leg slid down hers intimately.

"Morning, Harm. Sleep well?"

"Once I was here with you." She felt his nose nuzzle her neck.

"Same here."

"I'm glad, sweetheart." He continued his gentle caresses and soon Mac felt the warm wetness pooling between her legs. Harm's hand started to drift lower, fingertips dancing over the waistband of her panties until one slipped just beneath. His arousal pressed more firmly into her back.

" _Haaaaaarm,"_ Mac moaned, knowing she needed to stop him but not sure if she could. She whimpered as Harm slid his finger through her slick folds.

Suddenly Harm's hand moved from her panties and he rolled away from her onto his back. "Oh god, Mac," he ground out.

"I know, Harm." She rolled onto her back as well. They lay there, side by side, their breathing heavy. Mac did her best to calm her arousal; unfortunately, seeing Harm's obviously erect member tent up the sheet covering them only made the wetness and pleasure/pain between her legs intensify. She closed her eyes, throwing her arm over her face.

Harm groaned and abruptly rolled out of bed. "Mac—I'm just going to, um, shower, okay?"

Mac resisted the temptation to uncover her eyes. She couldn't look at Harm right now—if she did she would very shortly be in the shower with him. She just nodded.

Once she heard the water running she moved her arm and blew her breath out. Mac still felt hot and bothered and, knowing she needed relief, took matters into her own hands. She brought herself to climax, knowing full well Harm was in the shower doing the same.

* * *

 _0903 Local_

 _Harm's Apartment_

 _North of Union Station_

Mac had taken her turn in the shower and, once again dressed in her jeans and sweater from the night before, came up beside Harm in the kitchen. He had started on breakfast and Mac was surprised to see him actually frying bacon. "Harm?"

He jumped a bit, obviously not realizing she was so close to him. "Yeah, Mac?"

"Bacon? Were you expecting me to stay the night?" She smiled impishly at him and was amused when he blushed.

"Um, no…but I did want to have it available for when you did…I suppose that was a little presumptuous on my part."

"No, sweetie." She leaned up and lightly kissed the corner of his mouth. "I fully expect to spend the night here a lot in the future."

She watched the familiar flyboy grin brighten his face as his eyes focused on hers. "Well, then. I'll make sure to have fried pig available at all times for you."

"So, is it real bacon—not made from turkey or tofu or grass or something?"

"Yes, Mac. It is in fact 'real' bacon, I promise." His gaze turned serious. "Uh, Mac, about that, in there…" He motioned toward the bedroom.

"Don't worry about it, Harm. We knew this wouldn't be easy…like you said, it isn't like unscrewing a lightbulb. We know how it feels now, and Harm?"

"Yeah?"

"I've never felt anything like I feel when I'm with you…like that."

They stared at each other intensely for several seconds before Harm bent his head toward hers, giving her a soft kiss. "Same here, Sarah."

Harm had finished his cooking and brought it out to the table that Mac had set. They sat down together, Mac tackling the bacon first. "So, what's the word on the weather?" she asked him, taking a bite of the perfectly crisp fried pig.

"Well, the snow has stopped, but the wind is still pretty strong. Harriet called while you were in the shower—church was cancelled, and the theater is closed, anyway, so we won't be taking AJ to the movie. It should calm down this afternoon and we can see about getting your car uncovered after that. You up for another day with a squid?"

"Of course," Mac answered, wondering if they could bring up some of those sensitive topics that had troubled their relationship in the past.

Once breakfast was cleared away, they cuddled together on the couch, just enjoying each other's company. They talked about watching a movie, Harm having finally gotten a 'real' TV and DVD player, but then decided they were both too comfortable to move just yet. Harm idly stroked her arm as Mac rested against his chest, hand over his heart. "Harm? What did you mean when you said the only time I'd let you hold me was during a nightmare?"

"Well…after we, um, made, uh, had…"

"Sex, Harm?" It was cute how he always seemed embarrassed by this subject in the light of day.

"Yeah…you'd roll away from me a little then curl up. Once or twice I tried to pull you back to me, but you'd stiffen up."

"Oh…I guess I don't remember doing that. Anyway, it seemed like you always fell asleep right after..."

Harm just nodded. "And then the nightmares would come and you'd turn over and reach for me. It was obvious that you were still asleep, but you still knew I was there."

"Oh." She was thoughtful for a moment. "Harm, I really don't remember turning away from you. I'm sorry."

He waved her apology away. "Mac, those times we, uh, had sex…well, we both know they weren't how either of us wanted or expected it to happen."

"Harm, by that time I didn't expect it would ever happen."

"I know, Mac. But I always wanted it to." Harm pulled her closer to him and kissed the crown of her head.

"Me too," she whispered.

They sat in silence for a few moments until Mac spoke again. "Harm? How did you expect it to happen?"

Harm gave her a wistful smile. "Well…I always thought I would take you out—dinner, dancing. Some place elegant. Then, I pictured us going to a hotel and checking into the most expensive suite. There'd be candles, rose petals…I would slowly undress you, kissing every inch of your body before making love to you all night."

Mac felt the tears welling up in her eyes. "I would have liked that."

He kissed her hair again. "Sarah, we can't change what happened before, but we can still do all of that, the hotel, the candles—we can make up for it somehow."

"I'd like that too." She placed a kiss on his cheek.

The day passed quickly for them. They played a few games, watched a movie, had lunch, then tackled her snow-covered car. The wind had died down, the sun had actually come out, and it was going to be fairly warm the next day. This particular snowfall would not be lasting long. Once the car was divested of its blanket of heavy snow and the streets somewhat cleared, Mac finally left for home. Their goodbye kiss was passionate and prolonged, and Mac left with a contentment she hadn't known in years.

* * *

 _Two weeks later…_

 _1629 Local_

 _Mac's Apartment_

 _Georgetown_

"Harm, can you bring over that box of ornaments? This one's empty, and there's still a lot of tree left."

Harm went to comply, easily lifting the large box and bringing it to where Mac stood contemplating her tree. It was huge, barely fit in her apartment, and Mac loved it. Harm, however, wasn't so convinced.

"Mac, you know that tree takes up half your living room."

"Yes, it does, Harm."

"And you know you'll be finding its needles around until you put up the next tree."

"Yup."

"It cost a fortune."

"Uh huh."

"Why don't you just get a fa—"

"Harm! Don't say that. The tree can hear you."

"What?"

"Don't talk about fake trees in front of it. And besides, I'll never have a fake tree. The real thing or nothing."

"And I'll be dragging the damn thing up and down the stairs every year, right?"

"I hope so."

Harm took her into his arms. "Well, I know so, baby. You're mine." He kissed her tenderly.

Over the past couple of weeks, their relationship had continued to grow. They continued to talk and work through their past, spent as much time together as they could, and Mac increased her efforts to be more open at work. She started accepting lunch invitations, even if Harm wasn't there, and she and Harriet started to meet up outside of work again. Much had improved in her life.

There were, however, still issues. Mac still had to push down the feeling of panic around the admiral, and her nightmares continued to plague her. If anything, they were worse, despite Mac having started therapy with Dr. McCool. She still had the persistent belief that Sadik was on his way to her, at times even felt like she was being watched. She never told Harm about her suspicions, but she knew he could tell she was hiding something. He didn't push, but she did find herself being pulled into his arms whenever those fears started to consume her. She'd find herself staring off into space, visions of Sadik and his cruelty filling her brain, only coming back when she felt his strong muscular arms encircling her and his voice whispering calming words into her hair.

Not everything was always easy between Harm and Mac, however. After her first session with Dr. McCool, she just wanted to go home and be alone, but given the timing of the appointment, she needed to return to JAG immediately thereafter. Harm had asked her how it had gone and Mac, not wanting to admit that it had gone miserably, had snapped at him, telling him she didn't want to talk about it. He was obviously hurt and avoided her the rest of the day. She eventually went into his office and apologized, telling him the appointment was very difficult and could he just give her a hug and let her be by herself tonight? She did her best to reassure him that she wasn't upset with him, that the appointment gave her a lot to think about, and she needed some space to work through it. He did give her the requested embrace, made her promise to call if she needed anything, and then told her he understood. She wasn't sure he completely did, but he didn't seem to be hurt by her request for solitude.

As of today, Mac had now had two visits with Dr. McCool, a naval commander at Bethesda. The first appointment lasted two hours, the first hour consisting of getting some background information, Mac forcing herself to go against her nature and open up about why she was there and what she thought she needed. Dr. McCool didn't say much at first, made few notes, and then spent the second hour alternately staring at Mac while Mac squirmed, not knowing what was really expected of her, and asking questions about her childhood. Mac did tell the doctor that this was very difficult for her and that she wasn't sure what exactly she was supposed to do. Dr. McCool just stared hard at her again and said, "Talk." Mac found herself haltingly telling the other woman about her father's drinking, his abuse of her mother, and her mother's eventual departure. While Mac understood that her childhood had deeply affected her, she wondered how discussing that would help her with her nightmares, help her stop hearing Clay's screaming in her head, help her get over Paraguay. Mac tried to bring it up again, but Dr. McCool dismissed it, telling her they would get to that.

Mac would have been fine with it all if she could see how they would get from point A, her childhood, to point B, Paraguay. Unfortunately, as she left that first appointment, Mac still was no clearer on how that would be accomplished. She found Dr. McCool rather condescending and cold and realized she had expected a counselor to be more openly sympathetic. She also had the nagging feeling that Dr. McCool didn't like her. She tried to tell herself that that was irrational, that it wasn't like Dr. McCool was supposed to be her friend, that it didn't matter if she was liked or not, but as she slid into her car to go back to JAG, she couldn't help but feel she had done something wrong. She blinked back a few tears, put the car into gear and headed toward Falls Church, thinking along the way that what she really wanted was another motherly embrace from Harm's mom. That thought made her feel even worse. Here she was, a proud, strong marine, and all she wanted was a mommy. Someone else's mommy, no less. The tears fell, tracking down her cheeks as she angrily tried to swipe them away with her hand.

Mac had herself back under control by the time she arrived at work, touched up her makeup in the little bathroom off that one court room, and started the work day out of sorts and nervous.

By the time Mac's second session with Dr. McCool came around a week later, Mac had mostly convinced herself that this next appointment would be better, that she would know what to expect, and maybe they could start on the deep subject that was Paraguay.

No such luck.

Dr. McCool was very interested in the fact that Mac was the child of an alcoholic, and Mac was informed that the reason she became a lawyer and an officer in the marines was because she wanted her father to love her. Mac knew she had many reasons why she pushed herself to succeed and yes, some of them likely had to do with her father, but Mac did like to think that she herself had a lot to do with it too. Mac had given her a skeptical look, was about to say something to contradict her, when Dr. McCool also mentioned that another reason for her drive to succeed was likely rooted in the idea that if she, Mac, were good enough, her mother might come back. Mac commented somewhat flippantly that that wasn't her initial thought as she drank down her first bottle of vodka. This caused Dr. McCool's eyebrows to raise and Mac's cheeks to blush. Mac gave her the quick version of her adolescent and teen years, the doctor only nodding.

Once again, Mac asked if they could discuss Paraguay. Obviously, the mission was classified, but Mac at least wanted to give a few non-specific details and perhaps get some advice on how to work through the nightmares. She had indeed called Harm a few times in the middle of the night after waking from one; he did help her calm down, telling her to breathe slowly and that he was there for her. After a particularly bad one, he ended the call by singing her a lullaby. It was romantic, it was sweet, it was utterly sappy, and she couldn't help but love him even more. Unfortunately, it didn't prevent further nightmares.

Dr. McCool once again patiently (condescendingly in Mac's mind) told her that they would discuss it at the 'right' time, whenever that was.

Mac walked out of there for a second time feeling unsettled, confused, and longing for hug-from anyone at this point. She'd even take one from the stoic marine guard at the JAG main gate. She still felt McCool didn't like her, was pissed off that it actually _did_ matter to her if the other woman liked her, and felt that her accomplishments as a lawyer were cheapened because she apparently only did it so her parents would love her.

This was not to say that Dr. McCool hadn't made some good points, and Mac did see the truth in some of her words, but she had left there twice now without any hope that things were going to get better. It was after that second session that the nightmares worsened to the point that she had woken up soaked and screaming every night since. She called Harm only once, though. She didn't want to seem too needy or too, well, crazy. Harm did ask her about them; she answered with a fib saying they were better…and then felt guilty for the rest of the day.

Mac brought her thoughts back to the present. It was Saturday, and Harm had gone out with her to find a Christmas tree. He helped her carry up her Christmas decorations from her storage unit in the basement, after which he untangled the tree lights and hung them for her. "Harm, sweetie? I'll need the ladder to put the next ornaments on as well as the star—can you just hand them to me one at a time?" Mac paused on the second step of the ladder, holding out her hand for a delicate glass ornament. "Thanks, hon." Harm grinned up at her.

They worked companionably for several minutes until Mac reached out her hand for another ornament and nothing happened. She looked down to find Harm staring at a red glass ball in his hands. He had it turned enough for her to see the edge of the picture on it. _Oh, damn._

He didn't look at her but asked in a rather strangled voice, "This from Mic?" He turned the entire picture around to face her. It was a cheerful summery scene, the words 'Love from Australia, Christmas 1999' on it.

"Yeah."

He turned the ornament around so the picture was facing him again. Mac could see the muscles of his jaw clenching and unclenching.

"Harm, we don't have to put it on."

"No, that's alright." He held the ornament out to her, but before she could take it, he pulled it back, dropping it into the box. "I'm sorry, Mac. I can't." He turned away from her, hands on his hips, shoulders slumped a bit. Mac climbed down the ladder and went over to him, rubbing his back between his shoulder blades.

"That's okay, Harm. Mic's one of those things we still have to discuss, isn't it." It wasn't a question.

Harm nodded before surprising her with a fierce hug. "I'm so glad you didn't marry him."

"Me too, Harm, me too," she said into his neck.

Harm led her over to the couch, sitting down and pulling her along with him. They didn't speak for a few minutes, Harm holding her tightly to his side. Just when she was going to have to make him let go for a second so she could breathe, his grip on her loosened and he sighed. "I've never been so scared in my life, Sarah...at least until you went missing in Paraguay."

"I know. Being alone in that ocean must have been so—"

"No, Sarah, not that. I was scared that you would go through with it, that you'd be Mrs. Mic Brumby, and I would have lost you forever."

"Oh." She rubbed her hand along his leg comfortingly. "Harm, I told you at my engagement party that you would never lose me."

"Yes, but I'm sure Mic would have had other ideas. We _were_ fighting over you in Australia, you know."

Mac smiled briefly at the memory…now that she could find some humor in it. "I know. Bud thought so too."

"And I'm sorry about Sydney…what I said on the ferry."

"It's really okay, Harm. You just didn't feel that way at the time."

Harm took her hand in his and rested both of them in his lap. "No, Mac, I did. I did feel that way."

"Then why—" Despite having forgiven him for the ferry incident, it was still a painful memory for her.

"Because…it was so sudden. We weren't as easy with each other after I came back to JAG. You and Brumby seemed pretty cozy—"

"Harm—"

"No, no, let me finish. I know now that there wasn't anything going on between you two at the time. Anyway, despite my feelings for you then, I wasn't settled. I mean, I thought I was meant to fly, then I was suddenly back at JAG. I felt like a failure, honestly at both, and when you said we weren't even on the same continent, it was clear in my mind, however erroneously, that you just wanted a one-night thing. By then I loved you too much, respected you too much, to go through with that. I'm sorry I didn't realize what you really meant, I didn't have it all together then, and then you, you…"

"Went right to Brumby. I'm so, so sorry, Harm. What I did to you both…I'm sorry."

"And I'm sorry I didn't ask you what you really wanted and didn't explain to you what I meant. I really did mean, 'not yet,' not never."

Hearing the word once again that almost destroyed them, Mac recoiled away from him. She made a move to get up, but Harm held her fast.

"No, no, Mac, I didn't mean it like that." He put both arms around her. She realized she was shaking, realized that the word itself brought on its own set of flashbacks and pain. How stupid that the word still had so much power over her. Another thing to bring up with Dr. McCool…or maybe not…

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Harm whispered over and over into her hair. Gradually she relaxed a bit.

"It's okay, Harm. It's just a word…I'm sorry. I can't keep reacting like that. Especially when I'm the one who said it in the first place."

Once her trembling abated, Mac sighed against him and then leaned away. "Harm, I shouldn't have accepted his ring, much less his proposal. Don't be mad—I did love him. A lot. But not in the way I loved you then. Not in the way I love you now. I just didn't get it. I didn't get that even if you didn't return those feelings, I shouldn't have settled for Mic. And that's what it would have been. Settling. I would have ruined both of us—ruined a good man whose only flaws were that he wasn't you and that he loved me."

"Mac, loving you isn't a flaw. If it is…well, then I must be the most flawed person on earth."

The sentiment brought tears to her eyes, but also made her laugh at its utter sappiness. She was beginning to realize that Harm was more of a romantic, well, sap than she ever knew. "There you go, sapping it up, Flyboy."

"Only for you, Ninja Girl."

There was another lull in their conversation until Mac spoke up. "Harm, I can still feel that kiss on the admiral's porch."

"Me too, Sarah."

"I should have made you take me away right then."

"And I should have done it."

"Why didn't you? Why didn't we?"

"Because we were both too damn honorable."

Mac dropped her head. "Not me, Harm. I would have run away with you with just a word." That was a true statement, and it was terribly hard for her to admit it.

"Mac, that night I went home with Renee. And yes, Renee and I…well…you know what we did…and I-I did say your name…while we…I called her 'Sarah.' Now who's not so honorable."

Mac was stunned at that, even knowing that he had basically done the same to Jordan. "What did she do?"

"Slapped me and left. I deserved it. I still held out hope that you would cancel the wedding, and when you didn't…I went and groveled to Renee, made some stupid excuses, and given that neither of us relished being alone, she took me back."

"Oh… I'm sorry, Harm."

"For what?"

"Putting you in that situation."

" _Maaaac…_ not everything is your fault, okay?" She didn't answer immediately, and he bumped her shoulder with his. "Okay?" he said again.

"Okay."

"Harm…you have to know that when you went down in the Atlantic… _I've_ never been so scared in my life. I had managed to bury most of the feelings I had for you…at least the 'in love' part, and then it came roiling up to the surface. I left the rehearsal dinner and Mic found me in another room, crying. He wanted to comfort me, but I couldn't let him. Not for that…I think he knew then that there was never going to be a wedding. I didn't consciously know it at the time, but, deep down..."

"Mac? Would you have…would you have married him if I didn't crash?"

That was another question she didn't relish answering. Because unfortunately, the answer was yes. "Yes, Harm. I would have."

"Oh." He looked heartbroken.

"And we would have divorced within six months."

"You really think so?"

"I know so. I wouldn't have been able to stay away from you. You were my best friend. And Mic, who should have been, clearly wasn't. He said he was, but probably knew better, and he had already started to make comments about me spending less time with you once we were married. Harm, he did have a controlling side, I guess that's another flaw…without a doubt he eventually would have forbidden me to see you, and that would have been impossible. I wouldn't ever have been able to do that. I didn't realize that at the time, but you know what they say about hindsight…I wouldn't have gone along with it."

"Okay."

It was silent again for a while.

"Mac? You said Mic was controlling…did he ever, I mean did he ever try to control you…physically?"

"You mean hit me? Or, or…something else?" Rape was too hard a word to say, apparently.

"Yeah."

She understood then that he really did mean either scenario. "No, Harm. Not ever. And believe me when I say I wouldn't have let him do that or at least get away with that."

"Good. Because I would have killed him." He said it with such conviction that Mac knew he spoke the absolute truth.

Mac still had one question. "Harm? Why did you fly in that storm?"

"I promised to be there." Mac knew that wasn't the whole truth. She had had years to read his body language and it was obvious to her that he had left something out.

"Harm…"

"Well, I…Mac, this is hard to say…"

"Why?" Then it dawned on her. "You were coming back to stop the wedding."

Harm hung his head. "Yes. Yes, I was."

"Why?"

He gave a bitter chuckle. "Well, aside from loving you…Sarah, I'm surprised I didn't fail my quals. Or at least I am surprised I was able to focus up there. I couldn't stop thinking about you. After I finished my last landing, I climbed out of the plane. I was almost to the ground when I realized I forgot something. I climbed back up and searched around the cockpit, didn't find it. I checked my flight suit—it wasn't there. Once I was finally able to, I ran back to my quarters and upended everything, still couldn't find it. I was practically in tears at that point when I saw it sticking out from under the bed."

Harm didn't continue for a few seconds, and though she tried to be patient, Mac couldn't. "What, Harm? What was sticking out from under the bed?"

He suddenly stood up from the couch, walked over to the little table by her front door, and picked up his wallet. He sat back down beside her, opened the wallet up, pulled out a folded piece of paper, and handed it to her.

Mac realized it was a picture. Her heart started to beat faster as she turned it over. It was a photo of her, sitting next to Harm at a picnic table, smiling at him. He had obviously just said something to her, and someone had captured them mid-conversation.

"I don't understand."

"It's a picture of us."

"I know that, Harm, but what was so important about it?"

"Harriet took it at AJ's second birthday party. She had scheduled it a little before his actual birthday so her parents could be there and so it wouldn't interfere with your wedding. I thought you were absolutely beautiful that day. When Harriet showed me the photo, I begged her to let me have it. I just _had_ to have it. One night, I kept staring at it, I'll admit I had had a couple of shots of whiskey by then, and I realized that you had never looked at Mic, or at least I had never seen you look at him, that way. The next morning, I woke up and assumed it was just the whiskey talking. I kept it hidden from my sight for days, finally pulling it out after we kissed during your party. I was stone cold sober, and it was still obvious to me that you didn't look at Mic that way. I was still too honorable or, let's face it, too chickenshit to do anything about it, but I took it with me on my quals. I had it in the cockpit with me for my first few flights, but I must have left it in my room the next day.

"As I sat there on the floor in my quarters, I realized that if I was that devastated over losing just a picture of you, then I would likely die if I actually lost you. And that was just what was going to happen—I _was_ going to lose you. So, I tried to get to you."

Mac was crying in earnest by that point. She had always wondered what the hell he was thinking that night and dreams of him dying alone in the ocean had haunted her long before dreams of Paraguay had taken over. "You idiot!"

"Well, gee, thanks, Mac."

She scooted onto his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. "No, I mean, you could have died."

"True enough…but I did still manage to stop the wedding…" He gave her his own version of an impish smile.

"Dammit, Harm, don't joke," she said through her tears, although she still had to laugh a bit. "Then why did it take us so long to…"

Harm stopped her words with a kiss. "Let's not dwell on that. We're together now. A little older, a little more mileage, a little more wear, but still together."

"Fair enough, Harm." She kissed him back, then snuggled in closer to lay her head on his shoulder. "I love you, Harm." She let her eyes close as she focused on just the feel of him.

"I love you, Sarah. And I'll keep telling you that until you're sick of hearing it."

"Never." Her eyes popped open. "Oops."

"See, Sarah, it's just a word. It can't hurt us anymore. What do you say we finish decorating that monstrosity of a tree, arrange a shipment of one red ornament back to Australia—" Mac smacked his chest. "Just kidding. Anyway, finish decorating that tree and get ourselves something to eat. And, before you ask, I've looked in your cupboards. We're going out."

"I've got Pop-tarts, Harm." She smiled at him winningly.

She giggled as he pushed her off his lap in disgust. Although, later that night, he did try one.

And god help him, he liked it.

 _End Chapter 24_


	25. Skies Grew Darker

_A/N: Here's the Sunday update! I really should be working on clinic charts, but, well, it's not like they are any more interesting than they were while I was actually in clinic…so I did this instead. Hope the story is not moving too slow for anyone…but I guess it is what it is! Thanks for the reviews!_

 _A/N2: Poor Mac…I know it seems like she can't get it together, but like I've said before (I think), I would assume she would have been a LOT more messed up from Paraguay than they showed on TV. This story is mainly how Mac makes it through. I am thinking of exploring this story from Harm's point of view as well. Not sure how that will all work out…I'm not a dude, so…_

 **Delicate**

 **Chapter 25: Skies Grew Darker**

 _1847 Local_

 _Harm's Apartment_

 _North of Union Station_

"I'm not going back."

Harm was at the stove, tossing vegetables for the stir fry he was making for dinner. A pot of rice occupied another burner and soft jazz played in the background. Mac had come over straight from her fourth session with Dr. McCool. She had let herself in, immediately dropping her briefcase and small duffle bag on the floor with a loud thud.

"What?"

Mac slipped out of her coat and started unbuttoning the jacket of her uniform. Her fingers were shaky and clumsy, and it took her a couple of tries before she managed to open the top button. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes glistened with unshed tears. She was angry, frustrated, and above all worried what Harm was going to think. "I'm not going back."

"Back where, honey?" Harm looked bewildered.

"Therapy. Dr. McCool. I'm not going back," she said for the third time.

"Why not?" Harm checked the rice, gave the vegetables another toss, and walked over to Mac, hands reaching up to grip her shoulders.

"Because…because, she's—it's not—I don't think she's working for me."

"So find someone else."

"It's not that easy."

"Come on, Mac, there's gotta be others at Bethesda."

"No."

"Really? Dr. McCool's the only one?"

Mac huffed impatiently. "No, I'm sure there's more. But I'm done. I don't think counseling is for me."

" _Maaaaac._ You've only had a few sessions. Stick it out for a few more."

Mac shrugged out of his grip. "I said no, Harm."

"But—"

"Goddammit, Harm! No!"

Harm's eyes opened wide at her outburst and he stepped back a few paces. "Okay, okay, Mac. I'm sorry. I was just hoping—"

"I'm going to go change clothes," she interrupted him. She grabbed her duffle bag from where she had left it and stepped toward his bedroom. "Okay?" She looked at Harm over her shoulder.

"Yeah, go ahead. Dinner's almost ready. We can talk about this later."

 _Not if I can help it,_ Mac thought to herself.

Mac removed the rest of her uniform and put on the jeans and sweater she had packed to change into tonight. To say therapy had not gone well today was an understatement. Mac had been struggling all day. The night before, she had had a horrible nightmare, one that topped any of the previous ones. So much death, so much blood. She had been up since 2352 and since then, just the thought of the dream nearly sent her into panic attacks. She had brought it up first thing with Dr. McCool, wanting to ask her what she could do to calm down, get back to sleep, not let it intrude on her day.

Dr. McCool, however, first wanted to review an exercise she assigned Mac the week before and then they could discuss it. Mac thought that was fine, or it would have been if Mac had actually done the assignment. She was supposed to write letters to her parents and tell them what she would tell them if they were face to face again. Mac thought it was a rather silly assignment but had honestly planned to complete it. Unfortunately, she was sent to Norfolk for the rest of that week and had just returned two days ago on Saturday. Between her case and the horror of her most recent nightmare, she completely forgot.

Dr. McCool, who truthfully did not seem all that irritated about it, told her she could just do it next week. Mac, however, burst into tears. After the fact, Mac knew it was because she was exhausted, frustrated that her therapy wasn't as successful as Harm's had been, and angry with herself that she actually felt guilty about a task that she thought was stupid anyway. For now, however, she just felt that she was defective.

Dr. McCool just sat there and watched Mac as she tried to regain control. This also angered her, and she had actually snapped at Dr. McCool, asking her why she was just sitting there, and could she please stop staring? McCool simply pushed a box of Kleenex toward her, seemingly unperturbed. Once Mac did manage to calm down, Dr. McCool simply went on with the visit as if the breakdown had never occurred. Mac's participation in the session, however, was nearly zero. She only gave one or two-word answers and she figured it was a relief for both of them when their fifty minutes were up. They never did discuss her nightmares, although, to be fair, Dr. McCool did try to bring them up.

Mac, dejected, drove herself to Harm's apartment. Dr. McCool had given her some good pointers, had made some shrewd observations during their four sessions, but Mac still felt no better. She couldn't stop feeling that as someone providing therapy, Dr. McCool should have been more sympathetic, comforted her in some way. Not necessarily with a touch or an embrace, but at least with words. Mac wanted to feel like she was being heard, wanted to feel like she was making progress, but she, of course, did not feel those things. Initially she blamed Dr. McCool for this, but, as was typical of her, Mac started to blame herself more and more until she finally believed that it was entirely her problem that she couldn't make this work. It didn't occur to her that perhaps she and Dr. McCool just weren't a good fit.

Mac stepped down from Harm's bedroom, finding Harm setting the table. She watched him for several seconds, noting that he didn't seem to want to look at her.

Mac took a deep breath. "You're mad at me."

Harm's movements stilled. "No, I'm not mad."

"Then what—"

"I'm disappointed."

 _Well, that was even worse._ "Oh."

Harm resumed his task, still not looking her way.

"Do you want me to go?"

Harm didn't say anything for several seconds, and Mac took that as her answer.

She started gathering up her things, going up to Harm's room where she had laid out her uniform, trying desperately not to cry.

As she came down the stairs, Mac found Harm waiting for her. "What are you doing, Sarah?"

"You wanted me to go."

Harm gently took her uniform from her hands and moved past her to once again lay it on the bed. Mac didn't know what she was supposed to do, so she just stood there, waiting for him to come back. Once he returned, he took her into his arms. "I don't want you to go."

Mac's arms wrapped tightly around his waist. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"For what?"

"For being such a bitch earlier. For being a disappointment to you."

"Oh, Sarah. You aren't a disappointment. I meant I was disappointed that it didn't work for you."

Mac attempted a joke. "But you do think I was a bitch, right?"

He chuckled. "Maybe a little." He kissed her hair. "But I love you anyway. And Mac, I'm sorry I made you feel like I didn't want you to stay."

"Thanks. I love you too."

"Mac, don't get upset again, but please think about trying someone else—I know you haven't called lately, but judging by how tired you've been, I know you aren't sleeping much and I would be willing to bet it's because of your nightmares."

Mac lifted her head to look into his eyes. "I'll think about it. But Harm, I really don't think therapy is for me."

Harm sighed. "Okay, Mac. Just don't count it out completely, alright?" She nodded. "Sarah, I just want you to be okay." She nodded again. She wanted that too, even if she had no idea how that was going to be accomplished.

"Now, let's go eat. Although, I warn you, the rice is probably one giant glob by now and the vegetables are probably all limp."

"It'll be fine, Harm." Truthfully, she wasn't very hungry and didn't really care what she put in her mouth.

Once they had finished dinner (which was actually quite good), and the dishes were put away, Harm led her to his couch and sat down, pulling her into his lap. "Do you want to tell me what happened with Dr. McCool today?"

Mac thought about it for a minute. "Not now, Harm. I'm sor-

"That's okay. And I think that's enough of the sorries for tonight, honey."

"Agreed."

Mac relaxed against Harm for several minutes. He was gently stroking and rubbing circles on her back while she traced little patterns on his chest. "Harm? I should probably go. We've got an early morning and I'm about to fall asleep right here."

"So stay."

"Harm—"

"Mac, no way am I letting you drive when you're this tired. How much sleep did you get last night?"

"Enough."

"Try again."

"Fine. About two hours."

"About? Just an estimate? From you, Mac?"

She sighed with exasperation. "One hour and fifty-two minutes."

"Oh, Sarah…" Harm stood up, still holding onto Mac. He carried her up the stairs to his bedroom and set her gently on the bed. He grabbed her uniform from where it lay beside her, found a hanger and hung it beside his.

"Sweetie, there's an extra toothbrush in the medicine cabinet. I'll grab you a t-shirt to sleep in and if you give me your car keys, I'll get your seabag from your trunk so you can have it for the morning, okay?"

Mac acquiesced, knowing Harm was right. There was no way she would be able to drive home tonight. She wasn't even sure she could use the bathroom without falling asleep on the toilet.

Harm left to get her bag from her car and Mac quickly changed herself into Harm's shirt. She had every intention of getting up and brushing her teeth but then the next thing she knew, gentle hands and Harm's voice were guiding her under the covers. She felt a soft kiss upon her forehead, and then didn't know anything more…for exactly two hours and thirty-two minutes, fifteen seconds.

* * *

Mac sat up, ram-rod straight, gasping for air and clutching at herself. She could swear Sadik was in the room with her, whispering those hated names in her ear. _Whore. Slut._ She also felt in her bones that Harm, Clay, the Roberts, Chloe…everyone she loved, were all dead, murdered by Sadik. She could see the rivers of their blood surrounding her, threatening to drown her. She still fought to take in a breath but then there he was, his cold eyes staring knowingly into hers, the irises inexplicably blue. He called her name…

"Mac!" Mac jolted awake. Harm sat on the bed beside her, his hands gripping her wrists. He was very much alive, thank god, but then the images of what Sadik had done to him in her dream flooded into her mind. Bile started to rise in her throat, and before she could embarrass herself, she broke away from Harm and stumbled out of the bed, running straight into the bathroom. She barely made it to the toilet before she vomited, tears running unchecked down her cheeks.

* * *

 _0729 Local_

 _Harm's Apartment_

 _North of Union Station_

Mac woke to the heavenly smell of bacon…and was that…pancakes? She heard someone come into her room and she rolled over to the sight of Harm carrying a cup of tea over to her. His hair looked a bit damp, his face was freshly shaven, and he was already in uniform.

She was still sleepy as she sat up and ran her hand through her tousled hair and down her face. "What time is it?"

"0730."

"0730?" she mumbled, still not completely awake. Suddenly her internal clock kicked in. _"0730!_ Harm! Why didn't you get me up sooner?!" She flipped back the covers and started to rise.

Harm set the tea on her nightstand and pressed her shoulders back down on the pillow. "Power down, marine. You have the day off. I already talked to the admiral."

" _What?!_ And what did you tell him?"

He shrugged. "I told him you had cramps."

Her eyes widened in shock before her face flushed with anger. "You sure as hell better not have," she said as she sat back up and swung her legs off the bed.

Harm's look of innocence changed to one of amusement. "No, jarhead. I mean, we wouldn't want the admiral thinking you weren't all kick-ass marine. Wouldn't want him to suspect you were a lady, too."

Mac snorted and rolled her eyes. Then she gave him a look that said he better tell her right quick what he told the admiral, or he would see just how much of the kick-ass jarhead she was.

Harm sat down beside her and made to reach for her hand. She subtly moved it away before he could make contact. He sighed. "I told him you had a rough night," he said simply, bracing himself for her ire.

"Dammit, Harm! You had no right to talk to him!" The last thing she wanted the admiral to know was how weak she was.

" _Maaac._ You need time to rest! You barely slept last night after—well, after. You tossed and turned. You cried…That's two nights in a row that you haven't had any meaningful sleep. You are exhausted. You _cannot_ work like this."

At that she did rise off the bed. "Goddammit, Harm! I'm going to work." She stalked to where her seabag lay on the floor by the bathroom. She pulled out her fresh uniform and tossed it on the bed. She turned toward the bathroom again, but Harm blocked her path. She tried to push past him, but he caught her arm, turning her shoulders so she was facing him. She glared up at him defiantly. "So, basically you told the admiral that I spent the night here because I was too tired and too scared to go home. That I have nightmares nearly every night and I threw up in your bathroom. Thanks. I'm sure now the admiral has lost the last bit of respect he ever had for me."

"What's that supposed to mean? The admiral thinks the world of you. Where is this coming from? And for the record, I just told him you were here and picked up a stomach bug, so I made you stay."

Mac barely heard the last part. Harm was way off on the admiral's assessment of her. "He thinks the world of me? That's a load of crap, Harm."

"Why would you say that? Seriously, what is going on with you two?"

"Don't, Harm."

"No, I can't let this go. Not this time. Something to do with the admiral is eating you up inside. Tell me!"

"Harm, I'm warning you…"

"Sarah, please..." His grip on her arms tightened as she tried to wrench away from him.

"Stop." She was shaking again but still fought him when he tried to pull her close. He managed to get his arms around her and she found her face buried in his chest. Her resistance lessened just the tiniest bit. "Harm, please stop. I can't…"

"Sarah, you can tell me. Why do you say the admiral doesn't think you are anything less than amazing?"

Mac snorted at that. Fine. He wanted to know? Well then, she'd tell him. "Because."

"Because why?" He asked her like he was talking to an obstinate five-year-old.

Mac lost her nerve to say anything further. Harm moved back slightly from her and used his fingers to tip up her chin so he could look into her eyes. "Because why, Mac?" he whispered.

Tears started to fall down her cheeks. She was so damn sick of crying.

"Sarah…"

Finally, she couldn't keep it in anymore. "Because. Because he was happy enough to just let me die down there. He wouldn't let you come find me. I wasn't worth it to him. He didn't care if I came back in a body bag or not at all. He left me to _die,_ Harm!"

"Oh, Sarah…" He pulled her tight against him once again and this time she didn't resist. She sobbed into his chest, vaguely thinking that he was going to have to change uniforms and send this one to the cleaners. Harm didn't say anything; he just let her cry.

"Don't tell him," Mac demanded when she calmed enough to pull away from him.

"I won't."

"Promise me, Harm."

"I promise. But I do need to call him and tell him I'll be a little late. I'll be discreet, Mac."

She noticed he didn't say anything to refute her claims against the admiral. She listened as he picked up the cordless phone by the bed and dialed the admiral's number. The conversation was brief.

Mac heard Harm chuckle a bit. "I'll tell her, sir. I'll see you soon. Thanks, Admiral." Harm hung up the phone. "That was the admiral."

 _No shit, Harm._

"He told me to tell you to get well soon. He said he needs you around there to keep me in check."

 _Right, Harm._

All she said out loud was, "Okay. Tell him I'm sorry."

"Will do. Now, I'm going to go change my uniform—don't say you're sorry again, Mac. It's fine. And Mac, please rest. Don't go into work. You'll only make yourself truly sick. And please eat something…your uniforms are getting looser again, and I feel like I could lift you with just one hand. I don't want anything—" His voice choked up and Mac was surprised to see a suspicious moisture in his eyes. "I don't want anything to happen to you. I would never get over it. Please," he begged.

Finally, she gave in. She couldn't bear to see the worry in his eyes and she knew he wouldn't be able to relax at work if he knew she was struggling in the office across from him. Defeatedly she sat back down on the bed. "Fine, I'll stay," she mumbled, though somewhat mutinously, looking at her toes before raising her head again. "But _only_ for today." Her gaze challenged him to fight her on it. Harm merely gave her a soft smile and leaned over to kiss her forehead.

"Fair enough, marine. Thank you. Now, there's bacon—real pig, of course—" He gave his obligatory shudder. "And pancakes warming in the oven. Eat 'em before they all dry out. I'd better change and get going. I'll call you later this morning to check on you." Mac started to protest but he interrupted her. "I _will_ check on you. And don't leave here until you feel rested enough to drive. I'll come over tonight."

Mac nodded. Harm turned toward the door, stopping when she spoke in a small voice. "Harm?"

"Yeah, Sarah?"

"Thanks."

"You're welcome." He turned to leave again.

"Um, Harm?"

"Yeah?"

"Could I…could I just stay…here? Be here when you get back? I won't feel so alone if I'm here…" She couldn't quite explain it, but if she couldn't be near him at work, she at least wanted to be surrounded by his things and his scent.

Harm's face softened into an expression of extreme tenderness. "Of course, baby. You never have to leave here if you don't want to."

She gave him a watery smile. "Thanks."

Harm grabbed his cover off his dresser and came back over to her. "Mac, honey? It's all going to be okay. I love you." He raised her chin and this time gave her a soft kiss on the lips.

"I love you, too."

"See you tonight."

"Yeah."

"Now, when I leave here…go eat, take a shower, and take a nap. For me."

"I will."

Harm left her then. She sat on the bed for a few minutes, images from her dream flooding into her consciousness. She forced herself to go over all the details of her dream, looking for a clue to…something. She was afraid that the increase in frequency and intensity of her nightmares meant that Sadik was close. Fighting down the terror and nausea, she looked desperately within herself for any sign or vision indicating that a confrontation with Sadik was imminent. Nothing jumped out at her as she went over and over her dreams, but, concerned she was missing something, she knew she had to make a call. Mac retrieved her cellphone and dialed the familiar number.

"Hello…Clay?"

 _End Chapter 25_


	26. Silent Screams

_A/N: So, this chapter has a lot in it. And ooooh, more Sadik foreshadowing. I swear he'll make an appearance…really. In this chapter Mac talks about some of the issues from her youth. Yes, there is a rape mentioned, but nothing graphic._

 _A/N 2: I've had to make more corrections in this chapter than usual...I kept falling asleep as I wrote and edited. I'm actually glad I posted the right chapter last night..._

 **Delicate**

 **Chapter 26: Silent Screams**

 _0837 Local_

 _Harm's Appointment_

 _North of Union Station_

Mac sat curled up on Harm's couch, a plate balanced in her lap. She picked up the last strip of bacon, taking a bite and chewing slowly, savoring the flavor. She had eaten half of the pancakes Harm had left for her, the most she'd eaten in any one sitting in the last few days, in addition to all of the perfectly fried bacon. She still felt exhausted but having food in her stomach rejuvenated her just a bit. Her cellphone rested beside her and she willed it to ring.

Her conversation with Clay was brief but friendly. After exchanging the normal pleasantries, Mac quickly got to the point of her call. She had to know if the CIA had any idea of Sadik's whereabouts. Clay informed her that he didn't know, admitting that he had deliberately avoided discussing the subject with his colleagues, his recent trauma too fresh. However, he agreed to see what he could find out for her. Mac thanked him profusely and he told her he'd call her back when he knew something. She had been about to hang up when he asked her a question she hadn't expected…

" _How's Harm?"_

 _Mac was a bit startled for a moment, not knowing how to answer. "Um…what?" She finally choked out._

" _Harm…you know, tall guy, flies jets?" Mac was relieved to note there was no undercurrent of hostility in his voice. She even detected a smile under his words._

" _He's, ah, good. He's good, Clay."_

" _Glad to hear it. I'm happy for you two."_

 _Now that did surprise her. "Um, what?" she asked again._

" _Sarah, I know about you and Harm. And I'm glad you two finally figured it out."_

 _Mac was skeptical. "Do you honestly mean that, Clay?"_

" _Yes, I do." Mac snorted. "Honestly. Don't get me wrong, I wish we could have…well, you know…but above all I want you to be happy. And Harm, he's a good guy, and, well…I owe him a lot."_

" _We both do, Clay."_

" _Ah, well…so, anyway…I'll call you."_

" _Thank you. And Clay…how did you know about me and Harm?"_

 _At that Clay just laughed and said only, "Classified."_

 _He hung up and Mac slipped on Harm's robe and headed out to the kitchen for her breakfast feast…_

"Hmmm, classified…" Mac spoke to herself out loud as she popped the last bit of bacon in her mouth. "I wonder what that means…"

She was just about to get up and take a shower when the phone rang beside her. She was surprised that Clay was calling her back so quickly despite her hopes that he would. However, a glance at the caller ID revealed it was someone else entirely. Mac grinned.

"Hello, Harm. It's hardly later. You've been there, what, like fifteen minutes?"

"Well, I wanted to make sure you were eating."

"Just finished, sailor."

"And…"

"And what, Harm?"

"How much?"

"How much what?"

Harm sounded a tad exasperated. "How much did you eat, my love?"

Mac smiled at his endearment. "Well, Mom, half the pancakes and all the bacon. You know, Harm, for someone who abhors the stuff, you sure know how to fry it."

"I never said I abhorred it…I just don't want to die young."

"Harm, my dear, when people are on their deathbed…well let's just say that no one ever wishes they had eaten less bacon."

"Whatever, sweet thing. So, what are you going to do now?"

"Just what you told me to do. Shower. Then back to bed." Mac yawned, emphasizing her point.

"Good. I hope to be done here by 1800. I'll bring Chinese home."

 _Home,_ Mac thought to herself. That had a nice ring to it.

"Sounds good, Harm. Now, you'd better let me go before the admiral kicks your six for slacking."

"Good idea. I love you, Mac. I'll call you later, okay?"

"Okay. I love you too, sailor."

As ordered, Mac quickly showered, letting the warm water relax her, then crawled back into bed. It wasn't long before she drifted off into a surprisingly and blessedly dreamless sleep.

* * *

 _1836 Local_

 _Harm's Apartment_

 _North of Union Station_

"Hey, wake up, sleepyhead. Time for dinner." Mac awoke to the sound of Harm's voice. He was sitting on the coffee table in front of her as she lay on the couch.

"Hey," she said sleepily as she sat up, swinging her legs over to rest on the floor. She hadn't heard him come in and he'd already changed out of his uniform.

Harm ran his fingers through her hair. "Hey, honey. How did it go today?"

Mac captured his hand as he withdrew it from her hair and held his palm to her cheek before giving it a little kiss. "It was good…I needed it. Thanks for…well thank you, Harm." He nodded and smiled at her, rubbing his thumb across her lips. It made her toes tingle.

"How long did you sleep? I tried calling around 1230 or so."

"Well, I slept another five hours and twenty-one minutes after my shower, then I woke up and came out here and I must have fallen asleep again around 1530?"

"Don't you mean 1532 and 34 seconds?"

"Maybe…I was too tired to care. But apparently I slept over eight hours today." She yawned. "And honestly I could sleep a few more."

"What did you do for lunch?"

Of course, he'd have to ask that. "Uh, nothing?"

" _Maaaaaaac!"_

Harm, I ate a lot at breakfast and honestly, I was more interested in sleep today than eating. And like I said, I still feel I could fall asleep right here."

He stared hard into her eyes, then finally seemed to accept her answer. "Well, let me get dinner set up and then you can eat and go right back to sleep." He stood up and went into the kitchen to grab plates and napkins to bring back out to the living area. When he returned, he sat down next to her on the couch.

"After dinner I should probably go home, I suppose." She really didn't want to, but she didn't want to overstay her welcome either.

"Why?" asked Harm as he handed her a container of moo shu pork.

"Well, I guess…I thought maybe…well, I don't know." She grinned sheepishly at him.

"Stay, Mac. Then you can go home after work tomorrow. You have everything you need here for now." She could see in his eyes that he honestly wanted her to stay, so she leaned over for a brief kiss. "Okay, I will."

They sat close together on the couch as they ate their food, chatting about their day. Obviously, Mac didn't have much to tell but she enjoyed hearing about Harm's triumphs in the courtroom. She finished her meal under Harm's scrutiny and judging by the look of relief on his face, he was glad she'd managed to eat so much.

Harm gathered up the remains of their meal and disposed of them in the kitchen. He then came back and sat back down beside her, pulling her into his lap. "Feeling better, sweetheart?"

She nodded against his chest, sliding a hand over his pecs up to his neck.

"Can we talk more about you and the admiral?"

Mac sighed. Now that she felt calmer and more rested, she didn't really want to bring up that topic again. "Can we take a rain check?

"Mac—"

"Please?" she interrupted him.

It was Harm's turn to sigh, but all he said was, "Sure, Mac."

Relieved, Mac started to doze off listening to the beat of Harm's heart. Harm shook her awake after a few minutes, speaking softly in her ear. "Hey, Mac? Why don't we get ready for bed."

"It's so early yet," she murmured, almost dropping off again.

"Yeah, it is, but if we get ready now I won't have to carry you in there again. I'm getting too old for that."

She snorted. "This from the man who said he could lift me with one hand this morning."

"Okay, fine. But next time you're carrying me in there."

"No problem."

It was Harm's turn to snort. "Right, marine."

Mac had started to work her way off Harm's lap when he surprised her and scooped her up, carrying her up the steps to his bedroom, depositing her in the middle of his bed.

"Not so old after all, eh, Harm?"

"No, you're just tiny."

She rolled her eyes at that. She had always been slender, but she certainly wasn't tiny. Harm was right about one thing, though. Her uniforms were starting to get loose again, and if things went on has they had been, she would need new ones.

"Sweetheart, you want the bathroom first?"

Mac motioned for him to take his turn then lay back on the pillows. She inhaled deeply; she'd never get enough of Harm's unique scent. She remembered her engagement party, Harm draping his jacket around her as they discussed the past. She had pulled the jacket tightly around herself, the warmth of his body still trapped inside it. When she gave it back to him, she could still smell him on her skin. Unfortunately, so did Mic…she could still feel his fingers digging into her arm, remembered the bruises left behind and the bitter accusations once they made it back to her apartment.

She had told Harm that he hadn't tried to control her physically, but looking back, he had come close. Mic had spent that night on the couch, apologized profusely in the morning, and Mac, feeling terribly guilty—his accusations weren't completely off base, after all— forgave him. In retrospect, she could see that she actually _had_ let Mic get away with hurting her. With the benefit of hindsight, she could recognize in Mic some of the same characteristics present in her father and was certain now that he would have become abusive had they married.

Harm stepped out of the bathroom wearing just his boxers. Mac admired the broad expanse of his chest, her fingers itching to touch and caress. "All yours, Mac."

"Yes, you are," she said with a happy sigh. She heaved herself off the bed and a smiling Harm swatted her lightly on the six as she passed.

"Hurry back, honey."

Mac quickly brushed her teeth and washed her face. She slipped on a tank top and shorts from her seabag and made her way back to Harm who was lying on top of the covers flipping through a magazine. As she snuggled up to him, he set the magazine down and wrapped his arm around her, tucking her into his side. Mac had gained a little more energy after preparing herself for the night and instead of getting under the covers and giving herself over to slumber, she indulged herself in running her hand over Harm's perfect abs and chest. The muscles twitched under her touch, and he let out a low groan as her fingers strayed lower. He scooted down in the bed to pull her across him for a kiss.

The kiss rapidly progressed to more, their hands roaming over each other's bodies, their tongues teasing and caressing each other. Mac drew her leg up the length of his, bending her knee and resting it low across his hips. She could feel Harm's growing arousal against her, his big hands finding their way under her top. Her nipples hardened against his chest. Eventually he rolled her onto her back, one hand sliding up over her belly to graze the underside of her breast. Harm lowered his mouth to capture hers in another searing kiss. He was now rock hard and Mac couldn't resist rubbing her leg over his tumescense. His hips rose and pressed harder against her and they both groaned at the delicious friction. His breath grew ragged but his hands suddenly seemed hesitant.

Over the last couple of weeks, their make out sessions had grown considerably more heated. They still had not crossed over the threshold of sex again, nor had they been completely naked before each other. Their touches, however, had grown bolder, testing new limits, each time going a little farther. They had stroked and rubbed and petted through clothing, each very careful not to push things too far. Mac suspected they both knew it wouldn't be long before they allowed their bodies to join again. She also knew they were both anxious about taking the next steps, both worried they had not covered enough in their conversations…although, as Harm's fingertips moved down to slide under the waistband of her bottoms, she had no idea what they actually still need to talk about.

Mac gave into the temptation to move her hand down lower as well to brush across his erection. Harm must have approved given how he thrusted his hips into her. He then pushed her tank top up enough to see the bottoms of her full breasts. "Oh, Mac." He said, reverently. She urged him to move his hand higher, and soon he was cupping her breast and running his thumb over the hard pebble that was her nipple. He asked with his eyes if he could take her shirt off, and in answer, she raised her arms above her head. Harm pulled her top off and she felt flushed as his eyes feasted on her firm, round breasts. "My god, Sarah, you're so beautiful," he said reverently.

"So are you, sailor."

He blushed a little at that compliment, then leaned forward to take one turgid nipple into his mouth.

 _Ohhhh, what this man could do with his tongue,_ she thought to herself as he moved to give her other nipple the same treatment.

All the while, his hands had never stopped their stroking and touching of her. He now had one of them against her mound through her shorts while his fingers pressed through to her clitoris. She wasn't wearing any panties and he undoubtedly could feel the moisture seeping through the thin fabric. She gasped when his touch became more insistent, then whimpered when his hand withdrew. His lips drew hers into another kiss, and she felt his hand against her abdomen again. His fingers once again slid under her waistband, stopping just above that bundle of nerves that cried out for his touch. "Is this okay?" he whispered into her mouth. She could only nod.

Mac started to squirm against him. Her breathing grew heavy as his fingers sought out and found the warm wetness of her center, sliding them through a few times before finally plunging two of them inside her. She cried out as he worked them in and out of her, his other hand absently stroking the erection that peaked through the gap in his boxers.

"Oh my god, Harm. More. I need more!" His thumb started to work her clit and soon she was shaking trying to hold back her release.

Harm's breathing had grown ragged, his voice hoarse as he urged her on. "Let go, baby. It's alright, Sarah. Come for me." Harm plunged his fingers in deeper than ever and Mac couldn't hold on anymore. She came with a near scream, her body shuddering around Harm as he gradually slowed his strokes. Her hands reached for his face and she pulled him to her, her mouth capturing his in a deep kiss. He pulled his hand from within her and slid it up her belly. She could feel her wetness on his fingers and she shivered. Harm was still impossibly hard and she reached down with the intent to give him the same release she had just enjoyed. She felt his hand close around her wrist to stop her and her eyes met his in question.

"Wait. I want…I want to taste you." He silently asked permission again as he reached to grip her hips. She nodded and lifted her bottom so he could slide her shorts completely off. He moved his body down and lowered his head to the juncture of her legs. She spread them even more for him and she nearly came up off the bed at the first flick of his tongue. Harm licked and sucked, pulling her clit into his mouth before sliding his tongue in and out of her. She writhed underneath him, alternatingly calling out his name and whimpering at the sensations he generated in her. He paused to lift his eyes to hers. "You taste so good, Sarah." There was another flick of his tongue. "So good."

Harm resumed his actions making Mac nearly sob with the intensity of what she was experiencing. "Harm…Harm…please…I can't take any more. _Please!"_ At her cry, Harm's tongue plunged to new depths as he sped up his movements and increased the firmness of his touch. Soon Mac was once again crying out with her orgasm. He gave her a few more strokes of his tongue and before she had even come down from the last, the start of another orgasm lifted her to new heights. He raised himself back up and crushed his lips to hers as she whimpered. She could taste herself on him and that only increased the aftershocks that burned through her core.

"Sarah, Sarah, Sarah..." he whispered as his fingers now stroked through her hair. "I love you, so much."

Once Mac could speak again she gazed tenderly in his eyes. "I love you too, Harm. Like no one before." They kissed again, then Mac turned and pushed him onto his back. "My turn," she whispered, sliding her hands down his body, hooking her fingers into his boxers and pulling them off. Now finally freed, his cock was huge, and she had another bolt of lightning shoot through her center at the thought of it filling her again. For now, though, she had other pursuits in mind.

She wrapped her fingers around his girth and slid them up and down his shaft. He bucked against her with a low groan. "Mac…I don't think I'm going to last very long…"

"That's okay, Harm. Don't hold anything back." She gave him a few more strokes before lowering her mouth to the purple head, her tongue slipping from between her lips to swirl around it. She reveled in the salty tang of his precum then took the whole of him in her mouth, drawing him in deep.

"Oh, fuck, Sarah," he cried as her warm mouth surrounded his cock. Her hand moved to cup his testicles, gently squeezing and pulling as she moved her mouth up and down him. She could feel him tense as his release neared and she started stroking his shaft with her hand. It wasn't long before he was shouting her name as he exploded, hot jets of cum shooting across her palm. She raised herself up to collapse beside him, and it was a while before they were able to speak again. "Mac…Mac…Sarah…you're going to kill me one day. What you do to me…what you make me feel…Sarah I—I—"

Her mouth halted his words "I know, Harm," she whispered into him. "I know. You do the same to me."

They whispered their I love you's to each other and then lay in silence, trying to catch their breaths. Mac draped herself over Harm, head resting on his sweat-dampened chest. She could feel his rapid heartbeat under her ear, beating in time with hers.

Mac couldn't help but feel that for once she was really and truly home.

* * *

 _2132 Local_

 _Harm's Apartment_

 _North of Union Station_

Eventually they roused themselves, cleaned up a bit, then slid under the covers. They scooted toward each other on their backs, lying side by side, shoulders touching. After a few minutes, Harm rolled over, settling on his side, propping himself up on an elbow and resting his cheek on his hand. She shifted a bit to be able to look him in the eye, once again reveling in the love she saw there. Harm rested his hand on her belly, idly moving it back and forth. Every once in a while, he would slide his hand down over her hip and back up her ribs to the underside her breasts. She felt him eventually pause over the small but thickened scar over the top of her left hip. "Where is this from?" he asked her, voice soft in the darkened room.

"Paraguay," she whispered.

He winced a little. "When?"

"I'm not sure." Truthfully, Mac really didn't know its exact origin. She just knew that it wasn't there when she left for that hellhole and was there when she returned. The wound had become superficially infected, which was likely why the scar was as raised as it was. Harm's hands continue to roam over her body. It was so very soothing and soon she felt like she was floating, for once feeling relaxed but not exhausted. She had nearly drifted off when she heard him ask another question. She felt him run his finger over the barely-there scar at the base of her throat.

"How did you get this scar?"

"What?" His question startled her a bit given that in over eight years, this was the first time he had mentioned it. She never tried to hide it, but it certainly wasn't something she brought up in casual conversation.

"Your scar?" He started to idly stroke her tummy again, causing goosebumps to rise up on her olive skin.

"Oh." She looked up at the ceiling, debating with herself on whether to tell him the whole sordid tale. His gentle touching continued to relax her, made her feel safe, so she decided to let him in.

"Um, I was fourteen…I was asleep in my room. My dad was having a late-night poker game. I think it involved more drinking than cards…once it broke up, one of them came upstairs and came into my room. I woke up with him on top of me…he had a utility knife to my throat to keep me from fighting. He used it to cut apart my panties…and then he tried to, um…well he couldn't do it—couldn't get it, um, you know…I started to struggle again and he got angry so he sliced the knife across my neck. I cried out then—I'm sure he thought my dad was passed out downstairs already. My dad heard, though. He pulled him off me and punched him. Both of them were so drunk that neither could put up much of a fight. I ran out and got my mom…I was covered in blood—I had on this flannel nightgown—it was November… Anyway, it was white so the blood stood out-I guess there was enough there that it would have stood out no matter what. It actually wasn't very deep, but I still needed stiches. My dad threw the guy out-I never saw him again. That was probably the only time my dad seemed worried about me. He actually came with us to the hospital—never left my side…" Mac paused then, touching the scar as she relived the past.

Harm's hand stilled, a look of horror on his face.

"My god, Sarah. I had no—I'm so sor—"

But Mac wasn't finished. So lost was she in the memories of that night that she barely noticed Harm was there. "We got back home and he tucked me into their bed. I think that was the only time he kissed me—on the forehead. But the next morning, everything was different. He got even more drunk after he put me to bed and woke up with a wicked hangover. He told me it was my fault—I was just a tramp, no better than the whores that hung around outside the base. I flaunted myself at this guy. I'd been enticing him for years with my—um, I developed early, you know—my mom tried to break in and stop it but he pushed her down and she broke her wrist—"

Harm evidently couldn't take anymore of her story. He rolled over once again onto his back, taking her with him, tucking her head under his chin.

He ran his hand across her hair and down her back and then trailed his fingers back up along her spine. "Oh, Mac…I'm sorry—I didn't know—I shouldn't have brought it up—"

"It's okay—it was a long time ago—you can barely see it anymore."

"That's not what I meant…"

I know, Harm…but really, I don't think about it much anymore."

"I'm still sorry."

"I know…thank you, Harm."

She relaxed against his chest while he continued his soft caresses. She felt so protected and so relieved to finally tell someone the entirety of her story. However, she still felt the tension in Harm's body. She raised her head up, propping her chin on his chest. "What is it, Harm?"

He didn't say anything for a while, unreadable expressions flitting across his face. Finally, he spoke. "Mac?"

"Yeah, honey?"

"In Paraguay…did any of them…did any of the men there…hurt you?"

It took her a moment to register what he actually meant despite the subject of their most recent conversation. "You mean, rape me?"

He nodded in the dark; she felt more than saw it.

"No."

He seemed to wilt in relief.

Neither spoke for a moment. It was Mac's turn to tense up. She warred within herself, debating whether or not to tell another of her secrets. She had never told anyone this particular one, not even Mic, and anyone who had known about it in the past had long since died. Finally, she let out a long breath.

"Someone did, once."

She felt Harm stiffen beneath her and heard his sharp intake of air.

"Oh, Mac…"

"I was seventeen…I'd just left my father's house for good and was at some party hosted by one of Chris's buddies. As usual, I'd drunk too much too fast and was semi-passed out on a couch. I didn't really get what was happening at first—someone was on top of me, my skirt was pulled down, and I could feel something push against me. I woke up enough to see that it was Chris's buddy. I tried to push him off, but he was too strong and I was too drunk. I cried but he kept on…then he was suddenly yanked off of me. It was Eddie. He beat the crap out of him then helped me dress and took me to his house. He told me to go to the cops, but I didn't—I figured I'd be busted for underaged drinking. And, really, who'd believe me? I was just Joe MacKenzie's stupid tramp daughter—"

"Don't say that," Harm's voice was harsh and adamant.

"Well, you know that was the least of it. I heard it all, from my father, Chris—slut, whore, tease…" Despite previously telling Harm she was not any of these, and she truly wasn't, there was a part of her that wondered if so many said that of her, maybe it was at least a little bit true?

"Sarah, stop. Don't ever say that about yourself. _Ever!"_

Mac could feel the tension and anger radiating off of him now. It warmed her that he cared so much, even as she struggled with her self-esteem.

"It's okay, Harm. I got over it. _But had she, really?_

"Did you? Really?" Harm's voice echoed her thoughts. "If you didn't go to the police, did you at least say something, talk to someone about it?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Same reason I didn't go to the police."

"Oh, Sarah, I'm so sorry." There were tears in his voice.

"Harm…it was so many years ago. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything. I've upset you."

"Yes, you did." Mac shrank away from him at that. He pulled her back, nearly crushing her to him. "No, no, I didn't mean it like that. I mean, I'm upset that you were ever treated that way. I'm upset that you didn't feel you could go to anyone. I'm upset that even though you told me you don't believe in the names your father called you, I get the impression there's a part of you that does."

"It wasn't so bad…"

 _Except it was. It was bad. After the rape you drank more and more to blot it all out, to forget the names, the violations and assaults you endured. You drank to ignore yourself screaming for some to realize what had happened to you…_

But no one ever did. No one ever paid attention enough to ever notice that something was amiss in the MacKenzie household. No one ever saw Sarah—not as a little abused girl, not as a teenager on a path to destruction, and not as a woman still haunted by a South American jungle and the screams of her partner as he took on her share of the torture too. No one saw the woman who missed her best friend terribly all the while pretending she didn't care. They didn't bother to look past her insistence that she was fine, didn't need to take some time off after Paraguay. Instead she had thrown herself into her work, closed herself away from the people she once considered family, and tried to embrace the numbness that had settled upon her.

No, no one ever saw _her._

 _Except Harm,_ her inner voice whispered to her. And he did see her. Despite the hurts they had inflicted upon each other over the years, despite the near destruction of their friendship, he still saw her. He helped lift the numbness that was choking her, let her come back to the living again. She didn't notice the tears that had started to drift down her cheeks until Harm cupped her cheek and swiped them away with his thumb.

"Oh, baby. I'm sorry I made you relive all that. No one should've ever treated you that way." He stroked her cheek with his thumb again.

"I know."

"You didn't deserve it."

"I know."

"Do you?"

She raised herself a bit on her arm, her large doe-eyes looking down at him. She tried to tell him that she knew she didn't deserve it, but the words died even before they reached her lips. She just stared into tender blue-gray eyes. "I—" Her eyes took on a look of frightened confusion and silent tears slid again down her cheeks, dropping onto his face. Harm turned them both over and flipped his leg over her, rising up on his knees, elbows on either side of his face. He hovered above her until she finally raised her eyes to his.

"You. Did. Not. Deserve. it." Each word was punctuated by a kiss. "You did _NOT_ deserve it. Say it, Sarah. You didn't deserve it."

"Harm…"

"Say it, Sarah. Say it until you believe it."

"I didn't—I didn't deserve it."

"That's right. You never did." He kissed the tears still on her face, nuzzled her nose with his, then brushed his lips across hers. He kissed her, softly at first, then deepened it as she responded. He rolled back over and lay down, stretching out beside her. Mac rolled up on her side as he pulled her to him, opening his legs as she slid hers between his. She was trembling again but eventually Harm's gentle caresses soothed her to near sleep. Her last thought as she finally succumbed to the lure of slumber was that maybe, just maybe, she could finally let go of that part of her past.

Maybe she could finally, completely, believe that she wasn't just Joe MacKenzie's stupid, tramp daughter.

* * *

 _0117 Local_

 _Harm's Apartment_

 _North of Union Station_

Mac's eyes fluttered in the dark as she desperately tried to hold onto sleep. Gradually, though, she became aware of Harm shifting beside her. He seemed distressed, but just as she was about to roll over and pull him to her, he sat up, threw back the covers, and got out of bed. He walked into the bathroom and Mac heard the water turn on. It wasn't long before the water shut off again and he returned to the bedroom. He didn't come back to bed, however. Instead, he left the room, going down the stairs. A lamp turned on in the living area, a thin shaft of light weakly illuminating the bedroom as well. Mac gave him a few minutes, then slipped out of bed herself, throwing on a robe over her naked body as she crossed the room. When she was almost to the stairs, the light turned off, once again bathing her in darkness. She carefully stepped down, waiting for her eyes to adjust before moving further.

She made out Harm's silhouette on the couch. He was leaning forward, elbows on his knees, face in his hands. She became aware that his shoulders were shaking in silent sobs. She hurriedly made her way over to him, stepping in front of him and resting her hands on his shoulders. "Harm?"

His arms came around her and he buried his face in her stomach. He cried for a few more minutes, and when he finally calmed somewhat, Mac spoke again. "What is it, Harm?" He didn't answer right away; he just pulled her down to sit on his lap. "Harm?"

"I'm sorry, Mac. Nightmare."

"Oh." She raised her arm up and ran her fingers through his hair. "What was it about?"

"Same thing it always is."

"And what is that?"

He gave a bitter chuckle. "Classified."

"Harm, please. Tell me about it."

"Can't." He let out another grim laugh. "Pretty hypocritical of me, considering I keep trying to make you talk, huh?"

"Oh, sweetie. It's okay, really."

Harm sighed and pulled her closer. "No, it isn't, but thank you anyway."

She ran her hands over his back, trying to soothe away his pain, relieved when he seemed to be relaxing again. "You know, Harm? I owe you an apology. We spend so much time talking about my nightmares, how they affect me…you seem so, well, _you_ all the time that it's easy to forget you are going through something too. I'm sorry."

"Don't be, Sarah. I'll get through this, too."

"I know you will. We both will, eventually. Come back to bed?"

"In a minute. You go ahead."

Mac stayed where she was. "I'm not leaving you out here alone."

He gave her a light kiss on her temple. "Thanks."

"Anytime."

They sat in silence for a while. She felt Harm take in a deep breath before he finally spoke.

"There was something more in this dream…"

"What was it?"

"Sadik. Sadik was there, Mac."

"Isn't he always?"

"Not in mine…not until now." Harm gripped her shoulders and pushed her a little bit away from him. "Mac…" He looked deeply into her eyes. "I think Sadik is coming. I think…I think he may already be here."

Mac gulped, sure all the color was draining from her face. Harm's fingers tightened more around her shoulders.

"And he's coming for you."

 _End Chapter 26_


	27. Handsome

_A/N: As always, thanks for reading and thanks for the reviews. I'm thinking this story can basically be broke down into three "parts." First part—the angsty struggles or our heroes. Second part—Harm and Mac finding their way as a couple given their recent history. Third part—more angst, a climax, and a satisfying conclusion. We're still in part 2 but moving on to part 3. And now, without further ado…especially since I took forever to write this…here's Chapter 27._

 **Delicate**

 **Chapter 27: Handsome**

 _1538 Local_

 _JAG Headquarters_

 _Falls Church, VA_

Mac stood leaning against the doorframe of Harm's office. Harm was clearly in deep concentration as he focused on his computer screen, his brow furrowed, his lips pursed. Rather than make her presence known, she took a moment just to study him. The lines on his face had deepened over the years and his body, though still lean, had thickened somewhat from when she had first met him. He now possessed an air of calm about him that wasn't present eight years ago, wasn't even present eight months ago. He had definitely matured, and Mac was well aware of what had happened in his life to bring that on. A part of her missed his brash, arrogant persona; that was who he was when she first fell in love with him, but this new Harm…she loved this new Harm with a depth she never knew was possible. She knew he would scoff at how she described him in her mind, but the one and only word she could think that encompassed the whole of him was 'beautiful.'

"Hey," Harm's voice broke into her musings. She gave him a brilliant smile and stepped further inside his office.

"Hey, yourself." She sat down in one of the chairs facing his desk. "Therapy tonight?" It was Wednesday, when he normally had his counseling sessions, but it was also Christmas Eve.

"No, I moved it to Friday. I'd like to get home and have a little time to unwind and clean up before we head to the Roberts'."

She gave him a sly grin. "We…what's with this we stuff?"

"Uh, I thought, well I thought you and I…maybe we could…" He blushed a little, finally just giving her a sheepish half smile.

"You want to go together tonight, Flyboy?"

"Well, I thought we might. I mean, I know we haven't really told anyone…about…about…"

"Us?" She said, encouragingly.

"Yeah." It amused her to see Harm squirm a bit.

"Do you want to? Tell people?" She had actually thought a lot about that today. Bud and Harriet's annual Christmas Eve dinner would be the first big gathering since the picnic right before Harm returned to JAG. It would seem the perfect time to let everyone in on their new relationship, but she also liked the idea of keeping it to themselves, letting them stay in their own little bubble for a while. She could admit that some of that had to do with her ongoing insecurities regarding her coworkers…would they think she was worthy of Harm? Would they think he was crazy for getting involved with her? Her brain told her she was being irrational again, but her heart said otherwise.

Harm tapped his chin a few times with his pen. "I don't know, honestly. Part of me wants to shout it from the mountain tops, the other part likes it being just us."

Mac nodded. Obviously, they shared similar opinions on the matter.

Harm went on. "But you know…I'm pretty sure Harriet suspects something. She keeps getting this Cheshire Cat grin on her face whenever she sees us less than six feet from each other."

Mac had to chuckle at that. "I noticed that too." She stood up from the chair. "How 'bout we just play it by ear. We'll show up together, mingle, and if we happen to make out under the mistletoe, so be it." Harm stood up as well, coming around his desk to tug on the lapel of her jacket and briefly squeeze her hand. It was the most they could do while in uniform.

"So, I'll pick you up around 1830?" Harm asked, letting a finger surreptitiously stroke her hand.

"Sounds good, Harm. I'll be ready. I've just got a few things to finish up here and then I'll head out. The admiral gave me the go ahead to secure early." Mac had impressed herself by asking the admiral about an earlier departure today for strictly personal reasons. She wanted to be able to take a long bath, take some extra care with her hair and makeup, and basically make herself beautiful for Harm.

"Great, Mac. I don't have much left here either, so I should be out the door by 1700." He leaned forward, lips coming close to her ear. "I wish I could kiss you," he whispered, and Mac felt her stomach drop to her feet.

"Me too," she whispered back, hoping the flush on her cheeks would not tip anyone off once she stepped back out into the bullpen. Honestly, what that man could do to her…

Harm winked at her and sat back down at his desk. "Now, you'd better get going. I know how long it takes you women to get ready."

Deciding not to retort back that he spent more time in the shower than she did, Mac gave Harm a parting smile and headed back out to her office, humming a Christmas carol along the way. She passed Harriet, who, as usual, had that huge grin on her face.

 _Of course the woman knew something…_

* * *

 _1818 Local_

 _Mac's Apartment_

 _Georgetown_

Mac paced the length of her apartment. Harm wouldn't be there for at least twelve minutes, probably more, but she was almost giddy with anticipation. Giddy at the thought of seeing Harm again outside of work and giddy at seeing Bud and Harriet and her godsons. She and Harriet were fairly close again, Harriet having sat Mac down before they left on their post-Thanksgiving shopping excursion to apologize for her actions in the wake of Paraguay and Harm's departure.

Harriet had admitted that she resented Mac for her part in Harm's resignation, not that he left to save Mac, but that he wasn't allowed back. The resentment had indeed grown into anger when it was clear Mac was involved with Clay even after Harm had given up so much for her. Harriet had started to cry, telling Mac that by the time she saw past her own hurt and realized that Mac was hurting too it seemed too late to make amends. Mac had shut herself off from everyone in the office, rebuffing any overtures Harriet or Bud had extended to her. Knowing she had played a large part in that, Harriet had humbly asked Mac's forgiveness. Mac had accepted her apology, both women embracing and crying together before they decided that if they wanted to get in on any of the Black Friday deals, they'd better get their sixes in gear.

There was still a bit of apprehension about being with everyone else socially, especially Admiral Chegwidden; she was out of practice with this sort of thing, but with Harm and the Roberts nearby, she knew she could handle it. That is, as long as the admiral kept his distance...

Mac made another turn around her living room, wiping imaginary dust from a shelf here and adjusting a magazine there. She hadn't been back to her apartment since she left for work on Monday, what with spending the last two nights with Harm and all day yesterday at Harm's loft. As much as she loved her place, she couldn't help feeling that Harm's apartment was home, even without all the Christmas decorations that adorned hers. She wondered about asking Harm to just make Christmas dinner at his place rather than bringing everything over to hers, but then she remembered that he likely had it already packed in his car and if he was planning on being even close to being on time, he would be at least halfway to Georgetown by now.

Deciding that she was just wearing out her carpet needlessly, she sat down on her couch and willed herself to relax, only to find herself thinking of the events of the previous night and early morning. They returned to the bedroom shortly after Harm's revelation that he believed Sadik was near and she had then tossed and turned—or would have if she wasn't sharing a bed with Harm. Unable to sleep in more than twenty-minute fragments, she lay next to him, envying his ability to fall right back to sleep once he made up his mind to do so. Harm had refused to elaborate on why he felt Sadik was near; he told her it was just the 'feeling' he picked up from his dream. She let it go for the moment; he needed to be held more than he needed her to grill him. She did not share with him that she had the same premonition, if that's what it was. It would only make him worry more, and as she wiped the remnants of his tears off his face, that was the last thing she wanted to do. She waited and asked him about it this morning as they readied themselves for work, but he brushed it off as just a meaningless dream. She could tell by his bearing, however, that he did not believe that; just as she wasn't willing to worry him, he wasn't willing to do the same to her. Mac picked up a magazine to distract herself.

A few minutes later, she heard a knock at her door and immediately her heart started to flutter. They hadn't gone anywhere yet in their young relationship that required "fancy" clothing and for the first time, she was wearing the beautiful dress and shoes she had gotten after her appointment with Ethan. Despite the loss of a few more pounds, it still fit perfectly. It was a dark but dazzling red, simply designed, and it hugged every curve. The matching shoes were more of the 'strappy sandal' variety with four-inch heels, accenting her toned calves. Perhaps they weren't the most appropriate shoes for winter, but they were perfect for her dress, which was good enough for her.

Mac crossed to her door, checking the peephole before opening it to reveal a weighed-down Harm. He was carrying a box of supplies along with a few sacks of groceries. Mac took the bags from him and he took the box into the kitchen, setting it down on the counter. They unpacked all the items requiring refrigeration or freezing, then just stood there in the kitchen, admiring each other. Harm was more than handsome in his dark blue suit and tie, the button-down shirt underneath it in another shade of blue. It all served to draw out the blue hues of his eyes, making them look more like the sea when it was calm, rather than stormy as when the grays and greens were more prominent.

Harm stood there staring at her so long that she began to blush. Finally, he seemed to notice her discomfort and came out of his stupor. "Oh, Sarah…you look, you are…"

"Yes, Harm?" she asked after a few more seconds of silence. Harm blinked a few times then straightened his posture.

"Wait, Sarah. Coming in with a box of Cornish game hens and carrots is no way to pick up your date…not when she looks like you. Let me start this over. You, sit there." He pointed to her couch. When she didn't move he gently turned her around by her shoulders and walked with her to the sofa, pushing her down into the cushions. "Okay, give me just a minute."

Harm left her apartment then, closing the door behind him. Mac waited a few minutes and was about to go looking for him when she heard a knock at her door. She smiled to herself, knowing it was Harm again but looking out the peephole anyway when she crossed to the door. She pulled it open, revealing the handsome naval commander sans uniform, holding a single red rose. As soon as she met his eyes, his face lit up with his flyboy grin, causing her to once again nearly melt at his feet. "Hello, Sarah." He held the rose out to her and she took it, pausing to inhale its scent.

"Hello, Harm. Please, come in." He gave her a more intimate version of his flyboy grin and stepped through her doorway.

Harm closed the door behind him then took Mac's hand. He leaned forward, giving her the softest kiss. "You look beautiful, Sarah."

"Thank you, Harm. So do you."

"Don't you mean handsome?" He cocked his eyebrow at her.

Mac leaned up and gave him another kiss. "No, I don't." She kissed him again, deepening it as she felt Harm respond. Harm's arms snaked around her waist and his tongue begged entrance into her mouth. She let him in and for several seconds they lost themselves in one another. Mac broke away first. "We'd better stop now or we'll never get to Bud and Harriet's."

Harm was breathing a bit more heavily, his eyes smoky with desire. "Yes, we should." But then he captured her lips again and his hands started to roam her body. His lips started to move down her jaw to her neck, and Mac unconsciously leaned her head back to give him better access. Harm pulled her closer to him and she felt his arousal low on her stomach. She was feeling the familiar ache between her legs, and she knew they'd better end this now, enjoyable as it was. She pulled back and Harm continued to follow her lips.

"Harm!" she giggled. "We have to go."

"Okay, fine," he sighed. He looked like a pouty little boy and Mac giggled again.

"Let me put this in water then I'll be ready." Mac bent down to pick up the rose that had become a casualty of their ardor. She carried it to the kitchen, quickly finding a vase and filling it with water. Mac set the rose in down in it, admired it for a few seconds, then came back to the waiting Harm. He had found her coat and helped her into it, kissing her cheek before he stepped away and offered her his arm. "Ready, Mac?"

She took the proffered arm and smiled up at him. "Yes, I am."

 _For so much more than just the party._

* * *

 _2034 Local_

 _Roberts Residence_

 _Rosslyn, VA_

"Harriet, you've outdone yourself. This is wonderful." Admiral Chegwidden surveyed the JAG family sitting around the Roberts' extended dining room table. Mac looked down before the admiral's eyes reached her. She caught Harm turning his head toward her out of the corner of her eye and then felt his hand quickly squeezing her thigh under the table. She gave it a quick squeeze with her own before he drew it away.

"Thank you, sir." Harriet stood up and addressed everyone present. "Bud and I want to thank you all for coming tonight. It means so much to us to have this time with all of you, and I hope you will join us tonight at the church." Her smiling gaze landed on Sturgis. "Chaplain Turner is once again leading the service, and we know from years past how moving that will be. Now, everyone enjoy your dinner. There's plenty, and please eat it all. I don't want to have to pack it away tonight, my refrigerator is too full anyway." Harriet sat down to her friends' good-natured chuckles.

Mac once again felt Harm's eyes on her and she turned to meet his gaze. He gave her the barest hint of a smile as he placed his hand back on her thigh. This time he didn't move it for several seconds and she felt his warmth seep through the silky fabric of her dress. She couldn't wait to be alone with him and by the way he moved his hand up and down her leg, she knew he couldn't wait either.

Amidst friendly conversation and laughter, everyone finished their meal. Mac and Jen helped Harriet carry the dishes to the kitchen and then loaded what they could into the dishwasher. Working efficiently, they soon joined the others in the living room for the gift exchange. Presents were piled high around the tree, each bearing the name of a JAG family member. They took turns opening them, admiring everyone's generosity. Warmth and affection surrounded the friends and colleagues and Mac felt it was almost like any other Christmas before everything went wrong.

Jen got to open the last gift, and as she tore the festive wrapping paper from it, the doorbell chimed. Bud left the room to answer it and when he returned with the new visitor, he was grinning from ear to ear. "Everyone! Look who made it!" The room collectively turned their heads, smiles breaking out all over.

"Gunny!" The admiral approached Gunnery Sergeant Victor Galindez and held out his hand. The Gunny gave him a hearty handshake and both Harm and Mac moved to greet him as well. Gunny had helped Harm save Webb's and Mac's six in Paraguay, and it was always good to see him. His hair was once again 'high and tight,' and it was a relief to see him back in uniform. He had clearly just arrived in town from his latest posting and Mac pulled her fellow marine in for an embrace.

"It's good to see you, Gunny."

"Thank you, Ma'am. It's good to be seen."

Harm shook his hand then, clapping Gunny on the shoulder. "You sure look better than the last time I saw you, Gunny."

"With all due respect, so do you, sir." Both men shared a chuckle.

Mac realized that Jen had moved up beside her. P.O. Coates had come to JAG well after Gunny had gone, thus she hadn't had the opportunity to meet him. Mac motioned to Gunny to grab his attention. "Gunny, this is Petty Officer Jennifer Coates. Jen, meet Gunnery Sergeant Victor Galindez." The two shook hands, and judging by the look on each of their faces, they were both very glad to meet each other.

"Call me Vic."

"Call me Jen."

They spoke at the same time and laughed with each other. Jen offered to get Gunny a drink and he gave Harm and Mac a grin before following her. Mac met Harm's eyes. He raised his eyebrows at her, then bent his head to her ear. "He's a little old for her, don't you think?" he whispered.

"Age is just a number," she whispered back, amused at Harm's obvious big brother protective act. After Harm had saved her career, Jen had joined the ranks of those that Harm would protect and defend without question.

"Yeah, but…"

"Oh, Harm." Unthinkingly, she wrapped her arm around his waist. "Gunny is one of the most honorable men we know. And he's what, maybe eleven years older than her? Besides, they just met. They may end up hating each other."

"I doubt it." Harm motioned across the room, where Gunny and Jen stood, a little too close in Harm's obvious opinion, talking animatedly, each laughing in turn.

"Well, they both deserve to be happy, and if it's with each other, well so much the better. I owe Gunny a lot after—" She cut the sentence off, eyes flying to Harm's. He looked slightly pained and she was sure her expression mirrored his. Her mind took her back to her goodbyes to Clay and Gunny, just before she broke her and Harm with her 'never.' She told Gunny she owed him her life, and she did to some extent. But she owed Harm more and instead of telling him that, she let him stand in the background while she fawned over Clay and gave Gunny the thanks she never gave Harm. Mac felt the shame wash over her followed by the all-too-common sting of tears and moved to step away from Harm. He caught her and pulled her back into his side.

"Mac, don't. I know what you're thinking. No matter what, he _did_ help us. He helped you. I couldn't have saved you without him." He must have sensed that she was still near tears and overcome with guilt, so he drew her away into the hall off the living room. "Mac, you don't need to feel guilty. We talked about that time. Neither of us behaved in a stellar fashion. You'd been through hell, I was a prick-don't give me that look, Mac-I _was_ a prick. We need to let all that go."

"But, Harm…"

"No, buts, Sarah. I love you, you love me, we're together despite all that, and if you look up, you'll see we're standing right under mistletoe. So, I'm going to kiss you, and that's going to be the end of it, okay?" Mac could only nod before Harm's lips touched hers. As usual, the kiss rapidly escalated and soon their arms were around one another as they totally forgot where they were. After several seconds of Harm's lips making love to hers, they were brought back to reality with the sound of a clearing throat. The two broke apart, stepping away from each other guiltily. They turned to the intruder, Mac fervently hoping it wasn't who she thought it was. _Please don't let it be the—_

"Admiral!" Harm recovered the power of speech first. "The Colonel and I were just honoring tradition. Mistletoe, you know." He pointed to the little plant hanging from the light fixture. Harm's face had his patented look of boyish innocence. If they hadn't just been caught making out by their CO, she would have rolled her eyes and smacked him.

The admiral looked back and forth between his two guilty subordinates. He arched an eyebrow. "Mistletoe, eh?" He stared them down for a few more seconds, then stepped passed them. He was just about to head into the bathroom when he turned back to them and spoke. Both Harm and Mac had followed him with their eyes and they still stood frozen in place. "Well, don't let me interrupt. Carry on."

Harm and Mac could only gape at each other until Mac regained her wits and dragged Harm out of the hall.

The two continued to stare at each other, their eyes wide, their skin a bit pale. Mac opened her mouth.

"So, _now_ what, Harm?"

 _End Chapter 27_


	28. In Wildest Dreams

_A/N: Not much to say, just here's Chapter 28! And thanks for the reviews, of course!_

 **Delicate**

 **Chapter 28: In Wildest Dreams**

 _December 30, 2003_

 _1622 Local_

 _JAG Headquarters_

 _Falls Church, VA_

"So, you're not going to tell me what we're doing or where we're going tomorrow night?" Mac was sitting at her desk, looking up at the tall navy commander in her doorway.

Harm flashed her his flyboy grin. "Nope, only that I want you to wear something you can dance in. Something nice."

"So, we're going dancing, then?"

"Not telling."

Mac rolled her eyes at him. "Well, considering I'm supposed to wear something 'nice' that I can dance in…"

Harm chuckled. "Okay, you got me there."

"Are we going to Rooster's?" She gave him a little smirk. She still wasn't sure how he found himself there in the first place. She hadn't ever asked him about it; she didn't really want to bring up their "reunion" after Paraguay. That wasn't to say she didn't think about it. As ill-advised as their actions after that had been, she couldn't deny that the thought of the passion they'd shared together made her tingle all over and weak in the knees.

"Ah, no. Something a bit more upscale." His cheeks had turned a becoming shade of pink.

"You know, Harm, you never did tell me how you ended up in a place like that."

Harm looked a bit more embarrassed. "Ah, it had good music?"

"Yeah, that dance remix of "You've Never Been This Far Before" really sold it."

He gave a sheepish chuckle. "Yes, well…anyway, no, we're not going to Rooster's."

"Okay then. I'll be ready tomorrow at 1900."

"Thanks, Mac. Now, do you have the McNally file? I'd better get some work done today or the admiral won't let me secure early tomorrow."

Mac handed him the requested file after she located at the bottom of a pile random files and paperwork. She noticed Harm shaking his head. Mac was so organized with everything…except her desk. Well, she knew where everything was. Mostly, anyway.

Harm made sure to make maximum contact with Mac's hand as he took the file, causing her to squirm a bit. He winked at her and she rolled her eyes at him again.

"Dammit, Harm, you're going to get us in trouble," she whispered. There was no real rancor behind the words though. Their CO had already caught them kissing and thus far nothing had happened. Of course, that was at Bud and Harriet's, not at JAG, so there wasn't much he could do about it. Besides, Harm had already talked to the admiral about it…

* * *

 _Christmas Eve_

 _2334 Local_

 _Washington Navy Yard Chapel_

 _Washington, DC_

After their mistletoe kiss, both Harm and Mac were apprehensive about what to tell the admiral, realizing they couldn't exactly leave it alone even after his encouragement to "carry on." It wasn't like they thought he actually believed the two were just honoring tradition, but both of the younger officers felt they should probably discuss it with him. They sat in the church that night, missing most of Chaplain Turner's sermon. It didn't help that they were sitting right in front of the admiral. Mac made sure to leave some space in between them although she wanted nothing more than to feel Harm's warmth against her.

After the service, Harm apparently couldn't take it anymore. He told Mac to wait a minute, leaving her by his SUV. She watched with not a little horror as he walked up to Admiral Chegwidden. She saw them converse briefly, the admiral looking over in her direction a few times. Mac was surprised to see both men smile and shake hands, Harm then taking his leave and heading back to her.

"What was that all about?"

"Don't be mad, Mac…"

"Am I going to have a reason to be?" She was already worried.

"I, ah, told the admiral about us." _As if he didn't already know._

"Yeah?" she said warily.

"He's okay with it."

"And how do you know that?"

"He told me it was 'about damn time.'"

Mac didn't say anything for a while. She could feel Harm's eyes on her for several moments until he finally started the vehicle and left the church parking lot.

After a few minutes of driving, Harm reached out and grabbed her hand. He let it rest in between them on the console. "Are you upset that I told him, Mac?"

"No…" she chose her words carefully. "But it was probably something we should have done together."

"I know, Mac. But I didn't want it hanging over our heads until Friday or Monday. I wanted to enjoy this Christmas with you, and I figured you'd balk at approaching the admiral tonight."

That was certainly true. Unfortunately, she did feel weak knowing that her boyfriend went to her boss for her. Of course, the admiral was his boss too, but again, they should have done it together. It made her look like a coward. But then there was the fact that she was also relieved that he had taken care of it...which _definitely_ made her a coward…

"He was really okay with it? What about us serving in the same chain of command? Is he going to separate us? What about—"

"Whoa, slow down, Marine. Yes, he is fine with it, and we're not married yet, so…."

 _Yet?!_

Harm looked a little shocked for a moment but then went on as if he hadn't said anything about marriage. "Anyway, it isn't a problem. He said he was happy for us."

Mac had a hard time believing that one and barely managed to contain a snort. "So, we just go on like we did before?"

"Looks like it. We'll have to tell him when we—I mean if…" Now Harm did look decidedly uncomfortable.

Mac squeezed his hand. They rode in silence for a few more blocks before Harm spoke again. "I want to, you know."

Mac's heart started to beat faster. She thought she knew what he was getting at, but had to ask, "Want to what, Harm?"

"Um, marry you."

Knowing what he was about to say and actually hearing it were two different things. Mac's mouth worked, trying to form words. "You do?" she barely managed to choke out.

Harm's voice was low and caressing and his thumb moved over her hand as he held it. "I do, Mac." Mac's heart started to pound in both joy and fear. Joy because she wanted nothing more than to spend her life with Harm, fear because she didn't have faith that something that wonderful could happen to the likes of her.

"Are you saying…are you asking…" She didn't know if she wanted to finish that sentence.

Harm smiled. "No, not yet…this isn't the place or the time…but, Mac…it's where I see this going. Sooner rather than later. Is that okay?"

Mac just nodded. She didn't trust herself to answer without bursting into tears.

Given the subject of their recent conversation, Mac had not been paying attention to the streets they drove upon. She was confused for a moment when Harm slowed and parked before he reached her apartment. She looked around and realized they were at the National Mall. _Of course…the Wall…_

Mac was prepared to wait in the car while Harm visited with his father, but was surprised when he asked her to join him. "Are you sure?" Mac didn't want to intrude.

"Of course. Come on. I want to introduce you two." He went around to open her door, giving her a warm smile as he gave her his hand to help her down. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and together they walked the path to the Vietnam War Memorial. Both of them shed a few tears as Harm ran his finger over Harm, Sr's name, then drew her close again to present her to his beloved late father.

After that, he took her home and spent the night as planned. They still didn't make love, but did kiss and touch as they had the night before, falling asleep entwined around each other. They both received the gift of no nightmares for Christmas, awaking refreshed and happy just to be together. It was the best Christmas Mac had had in a while…or maybe ever.

* * *

 _New Year's Day 2004_

 _0003 Local_

 _The Willard Intercontinental Hotel_

 _Washington, DC_

"You ready to go, Mac?" Harm whispered into her ear. She had her head resting against his shoulder as they danced to the last strains of "Auld Lang Syne." They had just rung in the new year with a kiss after an evening of dinner and dancing at The Willard's annual New Year's Eve gala. It had been a wonderful night; Harm was at his most romantic, and Mac was nearly buzzing with anticipation. She had a feeling that this was the night that she and Harm would finally "consummate" their relationship, and she was more than ready. Touching as they had been was no longer enough for her. She ached to have that union with Harm again, to feel him fill her and love her, knowing it would mean so much more now.

Mac nodded into Harm's neck, not quite willing to relinquish her hold on him. She felt Harm's lips on the crown of her head. "Well then, Sarah, we'd best get moving then." She finally broke apart from him and he immediately took her hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm. He led her out of the ballroom, but instead of heading toward the entrance, he led her to the bank of elevators off the lobby.

"Harm?"

"We're staying here tonight." He pulled her into the elevator as soon as the doors opened, and she was gratified that no one else followed them in. Harm pulled her to him, lowering his mouth to hers. The kiss was at first achingly tender but as his tongue danced along the seam of her lips, it quickly grew in passion. Her mouth opened to let him in and his tongue tasted hers. When the chime of the elevator sounded, indicating they were at their floor, they broke apart, Harm taking her hand in his to lead her down the hall.

"Harm, how did you manage to pull this off?" Even the hallway was elegant, and she knew that on tonight of all nights, the room Harm had booked had to have cost a fortune. It should have been nearly impossible for him to book it in the first place.

"Uh, Frank…he's got connections…" _Of course._

"I obviously didn't pack a bag…I won't have anything to change into…"

"All taken care of. Besides…you won't need much…" Harm looked down at her, his eyes hooded with desire. Mac felt a surge through her core as they finally arrived at their room. Harm pulled a keycard from the inner pocket of his suit jacket then used it to open the door, revealing an opulently decorated suite, complete with flickering candles and multiple bouquets of roses. A path of rose petals led into what was presumably the bedroom.

"Oh, Harm…"

"Do you like it?"

Mac could only nod. _How had he done all of this?_

He kissed her temple. "It's what I imagined our first time to be like…"

She remembered. She also thought back to a conversation they'd had earlier in the week…

 _They had been cuddling on her couch, the movie they had been watching long since over, not that they had really paid attention to it. Somehow, the conversation had gone to their respective first sexual encounters. Harm revealed more about his trip to Vietnam to look for his father and the young woman he had met there. Her name, Mac remembered, was Gym. The sixteen-year-old Harm had instantly fallen in love with her, as much as a sixteen-year-old could, and it was quickly apparent that Gym returned his feelings. They consummated their young love in the little hut that she and her mother called home. The virgin Harm had let the more experienced Gym take the lead, and as he tried not to think about how and why Gym was so experienced, they made sweet, tender love. He had been devastated when she was killed the next day and he admitted to Mac once again that he still felt guilt over her death, guilt that he couldn't save her._

 _Mac had pulled his head down into her neck, stroking his back with comforting caresses. Eventually he had leaned away from her and asked her about her first time. She drew away from him a little bit; her story was not as relatively innocent and beautiful as Harm's first encounter with Gym._

" _Mac?" Harm questioned. She still didn't answer him and eventually he stroked her arm with a fingertip and told her she didn't have to tell him if she didn't want to. She thought briefly of taking him up on that, but that didn't seem right as he had just been so open with her. She bit her lip, still debating with herself, then finally let the story pour out of her. It wasn't a long story by any means, but it was one she really didn't like to remember._

" _It was with Chris, of course. I was seventeen; it was a week before Chris's buddy, well…you know, and Chris and I had both been drinking, although not that much yet. Chris had done some cocaine, too. He worked at a garage in town, and I hung out there most evenings while he finished up. He was, shall we say, extra 'amorous' that night. I was nervous. I wanted to sleep with him, but I didn't want him to know I was a virgin. I knew that that night was going to be it…we were about ready to leave when Chris went into his boss's office…he knew where his boss kept the cash and every once in a while, Chris 'borrowed' a few bucks for booze or drugs. Chris's boss returned unexpectedly and since I wasn't supposed to be there, he pushed me into the little bathroom. It was filthy, and I always refused to use it. We hid out for a while and as soon as we were sure his boss had left, I started to open the door._

 _Chris…well I think he was caught up in the adrenaline rush of stealing from his boss and the risks of being caught there with me. He started kissing me and undressing me and before I knew it we were both naked and he had me up against that dirty wall. Don't think I wasn't a willing participant, but I certainly didn't expect it to happen like that. It hurt when he…of course, and I remember crying that night as it wasn't the beautiful experience I had hoped it would be. I know I got blind drunk later after that. Then the next week at the party where Chris's buddy, um, raped me, I remember Chris telling him earlier that night when he thought I couldn't hear that I was a hot little piece of ass. So, no, it wasn't what I'd hoped it would be."_

" _Oh, Sarah, I'm sorry…"_

" _Why? It is what it is…I imagine there is many a girl out there who had less than a magical first experience with sex."_

" _Sarah, why do you always do that?"_

" _Do what?"_

" _Minimize it, try to make it seem like something doesn't bother you. Clearly, the whole experience hurt you…"_

 _Mac had sighed. "It's all in the past, Harm."_

" _Yes, it is, Mac, but it's okay to tell me how you really felt about it."_

" _I thought I had."_

" _And minimized it the whole time."_

" _It wasn't that big of a deal, Harm."_

" _Do you really believe that? Do you?"_

 _Mac had gotten frustrated._ Why couldn't he leave this alone? _He asked again, "Do you, Mac?"_

 _Her irritation loosened her lips. "Fine, Harm. I_ did _mind. It_ was _awful. It was miserable and dirty and painful and I bled and Chris was mad that I didn't tell him I was a virgin and he told me he assumed I'd had 'plenty' of experience given what he had heard about me. It was humiliating. It was disappointing. Happy now, Harm?" She was sobbing by then and Harm pulled her into his lap, holding her tightly to him with his strong arms. He let her cry it out, stroking her hair and whispering loving words in her ear. She calmed after several minutes, apologizing for her outburst. Harm told her that wasn't necessary. He apologized for pushing her but told her he was glad she had told him. Then he once again apologized for how he had treated her earlier in the year, telling her he'd make it up to her, somehow._

Mac brought herself back to the present. "Harm, this is…it's perfect. Thank you. I don't know how you did it, but thank you." She turned and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down for a searing kiss. "I love you, Harm." The kiss took on a life of its own.

Gradually Harm's lips moved from her mouth to her jaw and down her neck. His hands roamed her back and one slid down her six, finally drawing her leg up to rest along his hip. "Ohhhh, Sarah," he groaned into her mouth. "This is how it should have been for you, for us." He let her leg drop down again, then bent to scoop her up into his arms. He followed the trail of rose petals to the bedroom and she saw that the bed was adorned with even more petals.

Candles illuminated this room as well and it was no less elegant than the living area. Harm gently set her down on the edge of the bed and then kneeled down to remove her shoes. He ran his hand up her hose-covered leg, slipping it underneath her skirt to discover she was wearing thigh-highs. She felt him pull the first stocking from the garter straps and then watched as he rolled it down the length of her leg and off her toes. He then began to massage her feet, working upward to massage her calf. He repeated his actions with the other leg, then proceeded to retrace his earlier path with his lips. He pushed the skirt of her dress higher, caressing her thighs, first with his hands, then again with his lips.

Mac was already wet; this was beautiful torture. His thumbs stroked her inner thighs just below her womanhood, and she begged him with her mind to go a little higher. She wasn't wearing any panties, just the garter belt, and Harm had to feel the heat of her. Mac could have cried when pulled his hands from under her dress, but then he captured her lips in another kiss. He worked his way downward again, this time not stopping at her neck. His lips and tongue teased the flesh at the juncture of her neck and shoulder, then traced a path down to the rise of her breasts. He cupped a breast through the fabric of her gown, kneading it before sliding his hands up and down her ribs. He reached around to undo the zipper of her dress and slowly drew it downward. He lowered the straps from her shoulders, kissing and nipping, rubbing his thumbs over her nipples as they peaked through the lace of her lingerie. Once the bodice of her dress rested around her hips, he unhooked her bra, letting it fall to reveal the beauty beneath it. A turgid nipple was pulled into his mouth and his tongue swirled around it while his hands continued to squeeze and stroke her breasts. His touch was gentle yet passionate and after he had made love to the other breast as well, he bade her to stand up. Her dress floated downward to the floor and she saw the admiration in his eyes and the quirk of an eyebrow as he discovered her lack of panties. Harm slipped the garter belt off of her, one hand skimming over her aching womanhood. She gasped at the contact but before she could say anything, Harm had scooped her up again, this time setting her down in the center of the bed. She reached her hands out to him, wanting to undress him as he had undressed her, but he lifted a hand to stop her. "I got it, baby. You just relax."

Harm made short work of his jacket and tie and then quickly undid the buttons of his shirt. It slipped off his shoulders and Mac's eyes hungrily roamed his broad chest. He kicked off his shoes and toed off his socks, then unzipped his pants and pulled them off along with his boxers. He stood before her in all his naked glory, his manhood proudly erect.

Harm joined her on the bed, kneeling at her feet. He started to kiss his way up her legs, his fingers trailing along the path of his lips. When he reached the juncture of her thighs, he kissed the soft curls there, a flick of his tongue teasing her clitoris. She lifted her hips toward him, but Harm merely continued his journey up her body. His hands stroked her tummy, slid along her ribs and once again cupped her breasts. It seemed he had kissed and caressed every part of and Mac was sure she'd spontaneously combust right there. Everywhere he had touched was on fire and her core clenched and wept with her arousal.

Harm's face now hovered above her, his eyes darkened with desire. He began to speak as he kissed her eyelids, her nose, her cheeks, her jaw.

"Oh, Sarah, do you know how beautiful you are? This is how your first time should have been. You should have had a soft bed. You should have had flowers…romance." He continued to work his way down her neck with his mouth, pausing at the scar at the base of it. "You should have had rose petals. There should have been someone that would have made love to you, not just used you." He nuzzled her neck and jaw, then looked deeply into her eyes. His stare was so intense that she almost looked away, but the love in his eyes drew her in and she knew she wanted to lose herself in it forever.

His words and loving caresses were a balm to her soul and she had never felt more loved. More cherished. It was such an unfamiliar feeling; she had never even felt that way with Mic, no matter how much he told her he loved her. She was his prize and more often than not, he had treated her like a possession. She knew Clay had loved her, yet he had never held her heart.

But Harm…he gave his love without expecting anything in return. He loved with his whole being and when someone he loved hurt, he hurt too. He didn't want her as just an ornament to adorn his arm; he wanted to know her, to let her shine, to be his equal. He _loved_ her. He had showed his love with actions more than words over the years and she cursed herself for not seeing that, yet she knew he didn't hold it against her. Both of them were guilty of hurting the other, but finally they were on the same page. There was sure to be some stumbling along the way, but now she knew they would weather that and come out stronger in the end.

Still hovering above her, Harm nudged Mac's legs apart with his knee. She opened them for him and he settled in between her thighs. His manhood pressed against her and his lips were mere inches from hers. "You should have had someone to _tell_ you how beautiful you are," he whispered, kissing the side of her mouth. "You should have had someone to worship your soul, not just your body." Another kiss fell on the opposite side.

Mac could only stare up at him, doe-eyes open wide. Tears welled up and started to run down toward her ears. Harm swiped them aside with his thumb, the brushed her lips with his own. "You deserved so much more, Sarah. You deserved to be _loved_." With that his lips joined hers in a soft but passionate kiss. He took his time with it as her arms wrapped around his neck, one hand weaving through his soft hair as she drew him closer to her. His tongue grazed across the seam of her lips, asking for permission to enter. It was quickly granted and their tongues danced with each other.

Mac slid her foot over the back of Harm's calf, bending her leg and wrapping over his six. Her other leg was bent and pressed against his hip. She felt his hardness between them as her hands roamed his back, marveling at the muscles rippled under his skin. Her fingertips grazed over the knotted scars at his right hip, remnants of his ramp strike almost fourteen years before. She shifted a leg so she could grip and knead his six, hands pressing down and hips thrusting up to tell him what she wanted. "Patience, Marine," he whispered in her ear. She whimpered in frustration.

" _Harm!"_ she begged. "Please! I need you," she cried, her hips thrusting upward again. "You have to…I can't wait. _Please!"_ Harm chose that moment to reach in between them, fingers sliding through the folds of her center.

"Oh god, Sarah, you're so wet. _Soooo_ wet." A finger slipped inside her and his kiss caught her gasp at the sensation. She needed him to fill her completely again, needed to feel his throbbing member emptying inside her. She ground her pelvis into him as he slid another finger into her.

"Oh, more, Harm. I need more of you." It was time. They were both ready and Mac was certain she'd die if he didn't join them soon. Finally he raised himself up a bit. His hand stroked his shaft a few times before he held it at her entrance. He pushed the tip just inside, the question in his eyes obvious.

"Are you sure, Sarah?"

She nodded. "Yes, Harm. I love you."

"I…" He slid the entire head past her lips. "Love…" His shaft was halfway in. "You…" He pushed in a little further. "Too." With that he buried himself completely inside her. Mac's legs wrapped tightly around him as she stretched to accommodate his girth. The sensation of him filling her was familiar yet more intense now that their love was declared.

They rested for a moment, Harm giving her time to adjust, then he started to move within her. His strokes were slow and languid at first, Mac content to follow his lead. Each thrust caused ripples of pleasure throughout her entire body; she could feel it down to her toes. Harm's hand slid up her arm to entwine his fingers through hers and he gradually picked up the pace. Mac's cries and whimpers filled the room. Their connection was far more profound than anything she'd ever experienced before and she and Harm never took their eyes from each other. Mac felt the pressure building in her core and she knew she was close. She was torn between needing her release and never wanting this to end.

With every touch, every caress, every thrust, Harm showed her his love. Mac responded in kind and she wished that all she knew of physical love had come from him. As she tumbled over the edge with the most exquiste and explosive orgasm she'd ever experienced, she realized she had truly been made love to for the first time in her life. It was overwhelming, almost too much for her, and as she felt Harm's release as he emptied himself into her, she started to sob.

She became aware of Harm still above her, still inside her as he looked down at her with concern. "Sarah, honey…what is it baby? Did I hurt you?" He started to pull away from her but she held him fast with her legs. She could only shake her head, unable to stem the flow of tears.

"Then what is it, Sarah? Tell me what's wrong. Please." His tone was gentle yet beseeching.

"Nothing's wrong," she managed to get out.

"Then why are you crying?" Harm looked near tears himself.

"It's just..this was so…it was b-beautiful and p-perfect and I've never felt like that before. It was like it—it was the first time—the way I imagined it should be."

"Oh," He gave her a gentle kiss. "It's never been like that for me either, Sarah." He proceeded to kiss the tears from her face, then rolled off of her, taking her with him so she lay across his chest. Mac continued to weep quietly, for her misspent youth, for the lack of real love in her life until now, for the joy of finally finding a home in Harm's arms. Harm continued to stroke her hair, her back, but minutes later Mac still showed no signs of stopping.

"Um, Mac, you're kinda giving me a complex here," Harm said after a few more minutes of her tears. Mac tried to stop or at least slow them down but that proved impossible. " _Maaaaac…."_

Mac had to giggle through her tears. "Harm, just shut up and let me finish, okay?"

"Alright, Mac. But you're sure you're okay?"

"Better than okay, Harm." She pressed her lips to his chest.

"If you're sure…" Harm was obviously still skeptical, but soon after Mac's tears dried and there was only an occasional sniffle.

Mac lifted her head, sliding her hands to his chest and resting her chin on them. She gave Harm a beatific smile. "I love you, Harmon Rabb, Jr."

He returned her smile with a loving one of his own. "I love you too, Sarah MacKenzie." He pulled her up along the length of him so he could kiss her. "Someday you're going to tell me what that was all about, right?"

"Maybe…if you make love to me again." Her smile turned impish. Soon she found herself on her back, Harm hovering above her. He caught her lips in a soft, almost reverent kiss.

"I can do that."

And so he did...for the rest of the night.

 _End Chapter 28_


	29. Footsteps on the Stairs

_A/N: Sorry this has taken a while…real life, writer's block (I know where I'm at, I know where I'm going…but it's the stuff in between…). So, I've just managed to find time to write…it's the middle of the night here. I stayed up late to clean my house in an effort to find my driver's license and debit card. My 3-year-old loves to take such items and put them in pockets, boxes, purses…and I have no idea where she put them this time. It is now not even worth going to bed. When I asked her what she did with them, she answered blithely, "I don't know." Of course. Please, Baby Jesus, don't let me get pulled over until I find it or get a new license…_

 _A/N2: I wrote the above before writing and rewriting this chapter at least 4 times. Finally, I think I'm done with it, such as it is. I was originally going to put more into it, but this seemed a better place to stop. BTW, I had to get a new license and I am anxiously awaiting the arrival of my replacement bank cards._

 _Oh, and relax…Harm and Mac need a few more hiccups in this story. It's an "angst/romance" story after all…but I always end in romance…_

 _And Sadik is coming soon..._

 **Delicate**

 **Chapter 29: Footsteps on the Stairs**

 _2352 Local_

 _Harm's Apartment_

 _North of Union Station_

Mac leaned her back against the bathroom door as soon as it closed. The fear she still felt was suffocating, and the effort to take in a deep breath was too much for her. She slid down to the floor, shivering in part due to the cold and her unclothed state, as well as the shame and terror she felt from her dream. She raised her arm to pull Harm's towel off the rack, but that too required more effort than she was capable of at this moment. Instead, she wrapped her arms around her bare legs, dropping her forehead to her knees, and let the tears fall. She cried silently, not wanting to attract more attention from _him._

Him. Harm. _My god, how could you actually think he would hurt you like that? It was just a dream. Just a dream. Just a dream…_ She repeated that mantra over and over in her mind as she sobbed. It didn't help.

* * *

 _0014 Local_

 _Harm's Apartment_

 _North of Union Station_

It was twenty-two minutes later, and Mac still sat on the floor of Harm's bathroom. Mentally she had calmed somewhat but physically she still trembled and shivered. At this point it was more due to the cold of the room than her fear, although the tendrils of it still lapped around her. Harm kept the heat down at night and given their usual activities and each other's body heat, that wasn't generally a problem for her. Sitting here alone on the cold tile floor with nothing on was probably not the most advisable activity she could have chosen. She needed to get up, go back out to the bedroom, and face Harm. But she was so embarrassed…

Their evening had started well enough. Harm had cooked dinner, they had cuddled on the couch while eating dessert, and then had finally succumbed to the sexual tension that had built up during the day. They had been in court together but on opposite sides. Mac was prosecuting and today the verdict had come down in her favor. They had given each other their typical good-natured ribbing but Mac could see the heat in his eyes as Harm shook her hand to congratulate her. He held her hand a little longer than necessary, making sure to stay in contact with her as long as possible as he drew away. It had been so erotic watching him in his closing arguments—the way his mouth moved, the way he grew impassioned in his efforts to defend his client, and the way his powerful body stretched against his service blues as he faced the courtroom. Mac was a consummate professional, however. She filed those images away to be taken out later for her own indulgence.

This was the second time they had faced each other in court since becoming a couple. She was relieved to note that their competitive natures still came out each time. They still sparred; they still relished in outmaneuvering each other. She had to acknowledge that in the end, she just really loved arguing with him. It had always been that way, ever since they had cleared the air about his sandbagging her in court in one of their first cases together as opposing counsel. He had made her so furious then. He could still make her furious…but now she could see it for what it was.

 _Foreplay._ And they'd had eight long years of it.

They had fooled around on the couch for a while and as things grew more heated, Harm had scooped her up and carried her to his bedroom. They quickly undressed each other and fell to the bed. This time it was hard and fast, passionate. She'd always be partial to the kind of lovemaking they'd engaged in on New Year's Day three weeks ago, but she couldn't deny that she liked it this way too…a little rougher, a little less care taken with each other's bodies. Their release was explosive, and memories of Harm's words to her as he'd pounded into her would make her blush for weeks to come. There was no denying that sex with Harm was fabulous.

They'd fallen asleep soon after, only to be awakened by another of Mac's nightmares. This dream was different. Mac was once again strapped to that bloodied table in Sadik's torture chamber. Harm was there too, but this time, instead of merely being a character on the sidelines, he was the one meting out her torture. His stormy eyes had been nearly black with hatred as he applied shock after shock to her. But that wasn't the worst of it. The names he'd used on her, the cruel laughter as he told her it was her turn to wish she were dead…and then when he'd torn her clothing and her pregnancy suit off with the intent to…Mac blocked that from her mind.

She'd sat up in bed with a cry, not quite fully awake. Harm had automatically reached for her, but instead of accepting the comfort he offered, she had pushed him away with a violent shove, her ' _NO!'_ echoing off the walls of his bedroom. She tore out of the bed, leaving an obviously bewildered Harm behind her, and locked herself in the bathroom. It took her some time to finally calm down enough to even realize it was a dream, even longer to let her fear dissipate, and now she just wanted the floor to swallow her up. Harm had called out to her shortly after she'd slid to the floor and she remembered screaming something incomprehensible at him. Now she just had to find the courage to go back out and face him.

Mac sat there for another three minutes and thirty-nine seconds. A soft knock came at the door, followed by Harm's hesitant voice. "Mac? Are you okay?"

She attempted to answer but choked on the words. _No, she was not okay. She would never be okay._

"Can I come in?" Poor Harm. He sounded so tentative. Part of Mac still wanted to disappear, but the other part just wanted him to hold her. The scenes from her nightmare were fading a bit; she felt she could face him now without the terror of earlier. She did not think, however, that she would be able to look him in the eye in her humiliation.

Still having difficulty speaking, Mac reached up and disengaged the lock on the door, scooting back to give him room to open it. After a few more seconds she saw the knob turning and the door slowly swinging in. Harm had put on a pair of sweatpants and looked down at her with a combination of worry, fear, and confusion. Mac continued to shiver, her teeth even clattering together by this point.

"Oh, Mac, you're freezing." Harm grabbed his robe off its hook and wrapped it around her. "Come on, honey." He eased Mac up off the floor, meeting no resistance from her. She let him lead her back to the bed, noting with renewed embarrassment that he'd changed the sheets. She saw the previous set of sheets balled up in the corner, no doubt soaked through with her sweat. Harm pulled backed the covers and eased her back into bed.

Mac could tell he was nervous about touching her. There were no lingering caresses, no idle stroking of her hair. It broke her heart a little; actually, if she were being honest it broke her heart a lot. _Why are you doing this to him? He deserves someone far more stable, someone who doesn't constantly disrupt his life with her problems._ Mac made a decision. Even if she couldn't entirely squelch the nightmares, she could at least make an effort to keep it together. She could stop crying in his arms at the smallest reminder of Paraguay, the smallest reminders of her less-than-stellar upbringing, the painful memories of her relationships prior to Harm. She could stop being such a goddamn basket case. And she would start right now. She took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, Harm."

Harm, who had slipped into bed beside her, leaving a healthy distance between them, didn't say anything for several painfully long seconds. "What happened, Mac?"

"It was just a nightmare. Just a stupid dream."

Harm shifted a bit, rolling slightly toward her. "It seemed like it was more than just a 'stupid dream.'"

"Harm…that's all it was."

"You were terrified. Of me."

"No…no, it wasn't you…" Even to her own ears, she sounded unconvincing. Harm, knowing her as he did, would surely not believe her.

" _Maaaac…"_

"Harm, please. Can we discuss this tomorrow? I've already cost you enough sleep."

"Mac, it is tomorrow."

"You know what I mean. Please…"

She heard Harm take in a deep impatient-sounding breath. "Fine, Mac." He rolled back away from her, and Mac had to bite her lip hard to hold back a sob. She turned away from him as well, curling up on her side, furious with herself and the tears that wouldn't stop falling silently down her face.

* * *

 _0444 Local_

 _Harm's Apartment_

 _North of Union Station_

Mac woke up with start, more from the surprise of having slept at all. She was aware without even rolling over that Harm wasn't in bed with her. She focused in on the sounds of the apartment, filtering out the ambient noises such as the fan of the furnace until she finally detected the shuffle of footsteps. They were followed by the sound of someone sitting heavily down on the sofa. Mac took a deep breath and tossed the covers off her body, then swung her legs around and planted them on the floor. There was still a chill in the apartment; Harm must have just turned up the heat. She grabbed one of Harm's Navy sweatshirts off the floor and slipped it on, then headed down the stairs to the living room to face him.

She found him on the couch as she had suspected she would. He was turned slightly away from her, elbow resting on his knee, chin cupped in his hand. His gaze was unfocused, and she wasn't sure he even knew she was there. "Harm?"

He didn't answer her, didn't even move. She reached out and touched his shoulder. "Harm, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. I, uh, couldn't sleep."

"Oh." She stood awkwardly next to him, unsure if she was welcome there at the moment. It seemed an eternity before he finally held out his arm to her. With relief, she sat down next to him as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and tucked her into his side. The sat that way for several minutes, Mac not wanting to disrupt the moment with questions or idle chit-chat and also not wanting to be the first to speak.

The clock on the wall opposite the couch ticked along, counting each second until Harm at last spoke. "Mac," he said gently. "What did I do?"

She wasn't expecting that question. Her eyes widened in surprise. "Nothing, Harm. Why would you think that?"

"The way you…the way…"

"The way I flipped out?"

"Well, yeah, if you want to put it that way. You were obviously terrified of me. Clearly I did something."

"Oh, no, Harm. It was-it was, I mean, I dreamt…"

"About me."

"Yes."

"Did I hurt you?"

"Yes."

He closed his eyes at that, looking pained. "Why?"

"I don't know." She wasn't planning on giving him any details. He didn't need that picture in his mind.

"Mac…you have to know…I would never…"

"I know that, Harm. It was just a stupid dream."

"We need to talk about them. _You_ need to talk about them."

" _Haaaarm…"_

"Mac, you can't keep on like this. Every night—"

"It's not every night!" she snapped, more forcefully than she had intended.

"The screaming ones, maybe not. But Sarah, you toss, you turn, you mumble…you're always exhausted."

"I'm keeping you awake."

"Yes, you are, but that's not my point."

"Then what is your point, Harm?" Her shoulders stiffened under his arm but even as she started to pull away, he tightened his hold.

"My point is, you _need_ to see someone. You _have_ to talk to someone."

"I am talking to someone. I'm talking to you."

"Mac, you know that's not what I meant."

"You want me to see a shrink again." she said flatly.

"I think you need to."

Mac tried to fight the rising tide of anger. She knew he just wanted to help her, but why could he not see that seeing a shrink was the last thing she needed? It would only make the nightmares worse and after four sessions with Dr. McCool, Mac was done with anything to do with psychiatry, psychology, therapy…absolutely done. She shrugged off Harm's arm and stood up to pace around his apartment.

"I don't need to see a shrink, Harm."

Harm stood up as well. "Mac, I don't think you can deal with this on your own."

"I didn't think I was on my own. I thought I had you. Or was that just wishful thinking on my part?" Mac's voice was starting to rise, even as her inner self told her to power down, to let Harm speak.

"Mac…" There was no denying the hurt in Harm's eyes. "You do have me. You'll always have me. But I don't…I don't think I can help you with this. I can hold you, I can comfort you, but I don't think this is something I can fix."

Old habits were hard to break and, feeling cornered, Mac found herself lashing out once again. "I don't need you to fix me, Harm!" She continued to stalk about Harm's living room, angry and not even sure who she was really angry at.

"Mac, sweetheart…" He tried to reach for her as she passed by him, but she wrenched herself away.

" _Don't_ Harm. Let me deal with this my own way. In my _own_ time."

"Mac…you need counseling. It helps. You just need to find the right counselor. Trust me—I—"

"Harm, spare me your story of 'how counseling helped me.' I'm well aware of how wonderful it's been for you, but I'm not you. I don't need it. I can handle this, Harm!"

"But, dammit Mac, you _aren't_ handling it." Harm's voice rose as well. "You barely sleep. You don't eat…not enough anyway, and I can't watch you do this to yourself anymore."

Mac's mouth dropped open and her eyes widened in shock. But she should have known. Just as everyone else had in her life, Harm was going to bail. Once again Sarah MacKenzie wasn't good enough.

"Then don't," she spat at him. She turned on her heel and marched to the bedroom. She threw off Harm's sweatshirt, pulled some of her own sweats out of her seabag and dressed quickly in jerky, furious movements. She unceremoniously threw her uniform in the bag, not even caring that it was going to be a crumpled mess when she took it back out again. She yanked on her tennis shoes and threw her bag over her shoulder. She nearly ran over Harm coming up the steps toward her. She pushed past him, and he must have known things would go badly if he tried to touch her because he kept his hands to himself.

"Mac…Sarah… _please…"_ She did her best to ignore the entreaty in his voice and how it sounded thick with suppressed tears; instead, she walked briskly to the door, closing her mind to the anguish and pain in his face. She reminded herself that it was he who was giving up on her. He who didn't think she was strong enough to get through this. Well, she'd show him. She didn't need him.

Mac shoved the extra locks of his door aside and flipped the deadbolt open. The force of her opening the door caused it to slam into the adjoining wall, knocking a picture off the bookshelf there. It crashed to the floor, glass splintering everywhere. She looked briefly to where the photo had once rested and realized with a new jolt of pain that it was Harm's copy of their Afghanistan portrait. _How fitting,_ her inner voice taunted her. She heard Harm coming up to her.

"Sarah, let's talk about this. Don't go. Not like this," he begged.

"We've talked enough, Harm." She swiped at her eyes viciously, incensed that tears were once again flowing down her cheeks.

" _Maaac…"_

" _NO! Enough!_ You've made it clear you don't want to stay around and watch the train wreck that is Sarah MacKenzie. And maybe, just maybe, Harm, I _can't_ be fixed. Maybe this is as good as it gets. You know, you're probably leaving just in time…the MacKenzie curse hasn't gotten to you yet. Goodbye, Harm."

She stepped into the hall, hyperventilating now, knowing she was behaving irrationally yet not knowing how to rein it all back in. All the more reason for Harm to cut his losses. She turned around one last time. Harm stood there, face white, hand on his chest, eyes suspiciously moist and Mac instantly regretted that one final look. It nearly broke her resolve. But better to leave him now before they were both in too deep.

She pulled the door shut behind her, this time refraining from slamming it. She bypassed the elevator and ran down the stairs, slipping a few times in her haste to flee. Once she managed to make it to her car she tossed her belongings onto the passenger seat, then gunned the engine and tore out of the parking lot. It wasn't long before she had to pull over, however, and give herself over to her tears. _Go back!_ her inner voice begged her. But she couldn't. Not now. Probably not ever.

Yes, better to leave now before she was in too deep.

But she was already in too deep.

 _Oh, sweet Jesus, what had she done?_

 _End Chapter 29_


	30. Losing Grip

_A/N: Okay, it's not as bad as you think, despite the chapter title._ (Since I wrote this, I changed the chapter title so it is no longer "Bad.") _Well, okay, Harm and Mac are still going through a rough patch, but they'll get over it. Honestly, if I worked with these two I'd be exhausted. Entertained, but exhausted._

 _I probably did fall into the realm of "melodramatic" here, I don't know, but that's what came out and my excuse is that I just ate a LOT of cupcakes. Oh well, one can't deny that after Paraguay both Harm and Mac needed to have a stern talking to, a hug, and then time alone in a room to work things out, followed by several sessions of couple's therapy. Poor things._

 _Once again, I had planned to put more into this chapter (you know, get them happy again), but I thought it best to cut it off here. Otherwise the chapter would be waaaay too long, and seriously, I need to put this computer down and clean my house._

 **Delicate**

 **Chapter 30: Losing Grip**

 _0922 Local_

 _Mac's Apartment_

 _Georgetown_

Mac stared at the ceiling. After she'd gotten herself under control, she'd driven herself home, lit a fire, and flopped onto the couch. She had now been lying there for three hours and thirty-two seconds. After one hour, twenty-two minutes of being there, she had turned on the TV just to have the company. Mac had hoped she'd just fall asleep, figuring any nightmare she might have couldn't be any worse than reality, but she wasn't granted even that.

Mac felt numb. It was a feeling she'd grown accustomed to in the wake of Paraguay, but ever since she and Harm had reunited, that feeling was just a dim memory. Now it was back in full force, or rather, she had brought it back to protect herself. If she couldn't feel, she couldn't hurt.

Harm had called earlier and of course she didn't answer the phone, letting the machine pick up instead.

 _Mac…Sarah…I'm sorry…please call me back so I know you're okay, Ninja Girl... I love you._

The plaintive sound of his voice had nearly broken her. She wrapped her arms around herself to hold herself back, really wanting nothing more than to pick up the phone. Tell him he was right. Tell him she was sorry. But of course, she couldn't. She was too stubborn. Too embarrassed. And too afraid to look him in the eye and see disappointment in them because she couldn't be what he wanted her to be. She'd never be able to do what he wanted her to do. The pain of it all overwhelmed her to the point where she couldn't even cry.

So, she became numb.

* * *

 _1157 Local_

 _Mac's Apartment_

 _Georgetown_

Mac did eventually drift off to sleep. She dreamt, but later she wouldn't remember any specifics. She managed just under two hours…and woke up feeling just as drained and as numb as before. Her phone was ringing again but she made no effort to answer it; her limbs were too heavy to move, and her mind was too dull at the moment to be able to form coherent speech. She heard her greeting followed by the obligatory tone, steeling herself for the message to come.

" _Mac, call me. I'm worried. I love you."_ Harm hung up, and seconds later Mac jumped at the feel of her cell phone vibrating on her lap. She looked down. Unsurprisingly, it was Harm. She let it go to voicemail, noting that she had four missed calls and three new messages. She'd slept through all of them save this last one. She didn't bother to listen to the messages before deleting them, knowing each one would weaken her resolve to…what, exactly she she wasn't sure. There was a war going on inside of her. She wanted his arms around her. She wanted his calming presence to soothe her, but that wouldn't be enough for him. It wouldn't be fair to him. He would eventually regret tying himself to her, though she knew he would deny that could ever happen, and Sarah MacKenzie's curse of destructive relationships would have another victim. But she couldn't be so cruel as to let him go on worrying about her.

 _I'm alright,_ she texted him. It wasn't long before he texted back.

 _Please call me. Talk to me._

 _Not right now, Harm. It's not a good time._

 _Are you really OK, Mac?_

Before she could stop herself, she answered with complete honesty:

 _No._

 _Then let me come to you._

Her heart begged for that, but it still wouldn't be fair to Harm. _No, Harm,_ she texted. _I need a little space right now._

 _I'm so sorry._

Mac didn't really know what he had to be sorry for. Even as hurt and as angry as she had been when she left him this morning, she knew it wasn't his fault she was such a mess.

 _You don't need to be. Please just leave me be for a while._

It was several minutes before he answered back.

 _If that's what you want._

No, no, no. That wasn't what she wanted at all. _Tell him!_ her inner voice begged.

 _It is._ Her fingers betrayed her heart. She told herself she didn't have any right to keep dragging him along in the, what had she called it? The 'train wreck' that was Sarah MacKenzie. Her phone buzzed with his response.

 _OK._

With that one tiny word, Mac felt a lancinating pain in her chest. He was giving up again. _But it's what_ you _wanted! Make up your mind, Sarah!_ In the distance she heard a keening wail. It took her a few minutes to realize the sound was coming from her, but as soon as she did, great wrenching sobs tore through her body. She threw her cell away from her, dimly aware of it striking the wall, its plastic body splintering as it hit the floor. She heaved herself off the couch, stumbled to her bedroom, and collapsed on the bed. Her time sense failed her, and she had no idea how long she'd cried out her pain before lapsing into unconsciousness. She didn't know anything more for several hours.

 _So much for being numb…_

* * *

 _1917 Local_

 _Mac's Apartment_

 _Georgetown_

The first thing Mac noticed as she awoke was her mouth. It was dry, her throat parched, and she needed water. She slid from the bed, swaying a bit with dizziness and the pounding of her head. She hadn't had anything to eat or drink since the night before at Harm's.

She stumbled to the bathroom to splash her face with cool water, then filled a glass with it and drank it down. Mac felt shaky and a little nauseated. Her blood sugar was likely low from lack of nourishment, and, though she couldn't exactly say she was hungry, she knew she'd better find sustenance.

Mac resented Harm telling her she didn't eat enough. She did. She had eaten everything he'd made for her last night and for lunch… _You skipped that, remember? And you only had coffee and a tiny mini muffin for breakfast. You turned down the bagel Harm offered you. And you did it knowing full well he'd brought it just for you._ Harm never ate an 'everything' bagel, but it was her favorite. God, she was so messed up. He was better off staying away.

Mac wandered into her living room. The light on her answering machine was flashing, and she could see there were even more unheard messages than before. She ignored them and made her way to the kitchen for some crackers, the only thing she could really stomach at the moment. She dug through her refrigerator for a ginger ale, finally finding one deep in its recesses.

She sat herself down on her couch; she'd left the TV on earlier and now it was showing her a ridiculous infomercial on some fuel saver. She nibbled on her 'supper' and sipped on her soda, staring at but not really seeing anything on the screen.

She jumped at the sharp knock on her door.

Ginger ale splashed onto her hands as drops bounced out of the can, hitting her face as well. She froze. Could it be Harm? Oh god, she hoped so. Or maybe she didn't. Oh, she was so confused. The knock sounded again. She set her drink down and stood up, hesitantly crossing the room to the door. She undid the chain and turned the deadbolt, pulling the door wide open.

It wasn't Harm.

* * *

 _1935 Local_

 _Mac's Apartment_

 _Georgetown_

"Well, can I come in, Sarah?"

Clay stood in her doorway, looking a bit awkward and unsure. Mac hadn't seen him since they'd broken it off, although they had spoken a few times, mostly about Sadik. Clay thus far hadn't found out much, but he had assured her that Sadik didn't appear to be anywhere near Washington.

Mac stepped aside. "Um, sure. What's that?" she asked, pointing to the manilla envelope in his hand.

"Latest intel on Sadik." He stepped inside and handed it to her. She noticed there was still a slight tremor in his hand.

"Is he…"

"No, he's not…seems he's been in Spain, has also been in Belgium briefly."

"So, why hasn't anyone gone after him?"

Clay shrugged. "Seems he's more valuable alive and free."

Mac looked at him incredulously. "To whom?"

"Mac, you're not thinking like a marine or an agent," Clay said gently.

Mac rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I suppose not. Being his guest and listening to your partner scream for hours on end does skew things a bit."

Clay looked down at his feet at her words.

"Sorry," Mac whispered.

Clay shrugged. "It's okay, Mac. We made it…and they'll get Sadik someday."

"Well, I hope it's before he kills anyone else or gets a hold of more missiles. How sure are you that the intel's accurate?"

"As sure as I can be of anything, I guess."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "That's not exactly a ringing endorsement, Clay."

"Yes, well…it's all I've got." He looked around at her apartment. "Still looks the same in here."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Did you expect it to be different?"

"No, I guess not. I don't know…I thought maybe Rabb would have moved in by now."

She couldn't hide the pain that flitted across her face. "We, ah, keep separate residences."

Clay, of course, picked up on her distress. "Mac, what's wrong? What did Rabb do?"

" _Harm_ didn't do anything. This is all me."

"I'm sure that isn't true. You told me yourself that he has an uncanny ability to piss people off."

"Hey, you want some tea?" she said, desperate to change the subject. She walked further into her apartment and tossed the intel envelope on her coffee table.

"Sure. So, what happened?" Clay was not going to let this go, apparently.

"We had a fight." To her chagrin, her eyes filled with tears.

Clay pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket. "Here, Sarah. I'm sorry." She took the proffered cloth and dabbed at her eyes. "So, really, what did he do?"

"Clay…it really wasn't him. It was me. I'm the problem." More tears fell. _God, this was so embarrassing. Crying to your ex about your current boyfriend._

"You want me to go beat him up for you?"

She chuckled in spite of her tears. "No, I don't need you to do that. If it comes to that, I can handle it…but Clay…"

"I know, I know, it was all your fault. Sarah, I know you. I know Rabb. I'm sure both of you had something to do with it." He stepped up to her and put his hands on her shoulders. "Come on, Sarah, let's have some tea. And then I think you should go to bed. You look…tired."

She snorted. "I look like shit. Just say what you mean, Clay."

The look in his eyes softened. "You could never look like shit. You're beautiful, Sarah."

She looked away from him, a blush warming her face. " _Clay…"_

He smiled somewhat sadly. "I know." He stepped away from her and motioned her toward the kitchen. His smile brightened suddenly. "But you know, Sarah…If Rabb ever, well…"

" _Claaay!"_

Clay just chuckled.

* * *

 _2048 Local_

 _Mac's Apartment_

 _Georgetown_

"So, are you going to be okay, Sarah?" She and Clay stood at her door as Clay slipped his coat back on. Over tea, they had reviewed the information Clay had brought. Mac still felt she wasn't getting whole story, but she did not believe Clay was trying to deceive her. More than likely, the powers that be didn't trust him with too much knowledge, so they were both getting only half of the truth. But at least it was something to go on.

"Yeah, Clay, I'll be fine. Thanks." Mac opened the door for him.

"Well, goodnight, Sarah. Get some rest, okay? You still look like shit."

She smacked him lightly on the arm. "Thank you so much, Clay."

He chuckled a bit. "You're most welcome. Now sleep, then call Rabb and work this out, okay?"

"Why are you being so nice about this, Clay?" She couldn't help but be a little suspicious of his motives. He was still a spook, after all.

He gave her a wry smile. "Because I want you to be happy. Because I Iove you."

Mac teared up again at that. She still felt guilty about the situation with Clay, felt guiltier now because she realized that Clay actually _was_ being sincere.

She leaned up and kissed his cheek, then gave him a friendly hug. "Thank you, Clay." Clay returned the embrace.

They both jumped at the sound of Harm's voice.

* * *

 _2051 Local_

 _Mac's Apartment_

 _Georgetown_

"Am I interrupting anything?" Harm was staring at Clay with a look Mac had never seen on his face. It was pure, unadulterated hatred.

Mac tried to form the words to answer but nothing came out. She thought her heart was going to burst through her chest. The situation was entirely innocent, but she could only imagine how it looked to Harm. And with his and Clay's mutual history…

"No, Rabb. I was just leaving." Clay looked nervous. Mac didn't blame him. Harm looked ready to strike. Both hands were clenched into fists and his eyes were black with fury. Clay gave her a short wave. He slipped past Harm, giving him as wide a berth as possible. Harm's gaze followed Clay briefly as he walked down the hall, and then he turned back to Mac. His expression shattered what remained of her heart.

Harm looked utterly devastated. If there was such a thing as a whiter shade of pale, Harm's face would be the ultimate example of it. Tears were in his eyes and Mac, despite knowing she had nothing to feel guilty over, was still overwhelmed by that emotion. She knew it showed on her face, and she knew Harm would take that to mean something had actually happened. "Harm—"

Harm raised a hand to stop her and shook his head. He turned away from her and was soon heading down the hall just as Clay had done moments before.

He was halfway to the elevator before Mac could make herself move. "Harm! Wait!" She ran after him, catching up to him just as he pushed the call button. She grabbed his arm. He pulled it out of her grasp, not violently or forcibly, but there was no doubt in her mind that she shouldn't try to touch him again. He wouldn't ever hurt her, but it was clear her hands on him was the last thing he wanted.

"Harm, stop. Clay and I—" She was startled by the chime of the elevator as it arrived at her floor. "Harm…" The elevator door slid open and Harm stepped into it. He didn't turn around.

"Harm! Please…don't go." It was her turn to beg him not to leave. "Harm…there is _nothing_ between Clay and me. Just come with me and we'll talk. I'm sorry about this morning. You were right—" The elevator doors shut in her face. She frantically pushed the call button again but there was no mistaking the sound of the old elevator creeping down to the lobby. He'd left her.

 _Well, what did you expect, MacKenzie? You left him first._

But Harm had to know she would never do that to him…

 _You did it to Clay. Why would he think you wouldn't be capable of doing it to him?_

Because he should just know...no, that was stupid. Why shouldn't he believe the worst? She'd essentially cheated on Mic the night of her engagement party. She'd unequivocally cheated on Clay. _Yes…why would things be any different now._

Mac still stared at the elevator doors, once again having no idea how long she stood there. It was disconcerting. Even in Paraguay she could tell the time to the exact second. She knew exactly how long she and Clay had been at Sadik's lair. She knew how long Clay had screamed before they threw him back in the room with her. She really must be losing it now.

Finally, Mac turned away from the site of Harm's departure. She stumbled a bit, still dizzy and dehydrated. She slowly made her way to her apartment, locked the door behind her, and once again fell onto the bed. She didn't move for the rest of the night.

But she didn't sleep, either.

 _End Chapter 30_


	31. Just Run

_A/N: Well, this has been painful. Rewrites, rewrites, Mac's too pathetic, not pathetic enough…I'm still a little meh about this but I had to post something… I had another incident which made posting difficult-I was peeling a potato yesterday with a brand-new peeler and manage to peel my fingernail and finger along with it, so typing isn't so good…the list of woes goes on…but at least here is %^! Chapter 31. I'm not even going to proof it until after I post—so forgive the hopefully temporary errors or crappy writing…_

 _And yeah, it'll probably be 2-3 chapters more before Sadik actually shows up...sorry. He'll get there. I mean, there's been all this foreshadowing..._

 _A/N2: Jeez, I must have been in a bad mood when I wrote the above-I'm sure it made you all really, really want to read this chapter. It's not too bad. Definitely could be better, could be a lot worse. I tweaked a few things so hopefully it is a little smoother. But sorry for the Debbie Downer of an author's note._

 **Delicate**

 **Chapter 31: Just Run**

Mac looked on in horror. The two missionaries lay dead, practically at her feet. A rough hand encircled her arm and pulled her away, dragging her toward the little shack where she would most likely meet her end. _Harm, please come._ The plea came to her unbidden. Of course, Harm wasn't coming. Silly to even think it—it wasn't as if she could just conjure him up simply by wishing it. _Harm, I'm sorry._

And she was sorry. Sorry for not waiting for him after Sydney. Sorry for running off to the _Guadalcanal_ before Harm could return from Renee's father's funeral. Sorry for not visiting him in the brig, orders be damned. But most of all sorry she had never told him she loved him.

They stretched her out across a filthy, bloodied table, cuffing her wrists and ankles. The restraints were painfully tight and soon her fingers were tingling. The pregnancy suit was an unwelcome weight on her supine body, only allowing her to take shallow, quick breaths that were fueled by her mind-numbing fear. She heard the light-hearted laughter of her captors, in stark contrast to the sound of the battery charging. She wondered how they could be so cheerful in these primitive surroundings as they prepared to commit such an act of violence against her.

Mac closed her eyes against it all. She willed a vision of Harm to form in her mind, flyboy grin in place, body clad in his dress blues. She'd never told him, but while she thought dress whites and gold wings were indeed just a bit overrated, dress blues, gold wings, and a JAG insignia were what really did it for her. _"Harm…"_ Tears squeezed themselves out of eyes that were pinched shut. The battery reached full power…and nothing happened. A door opened.

Eyes the color of molten chocolate met icy sea-green ones. _Harm was here!_ She smiled, and his familiar grin spread across his face. He didn't hear the shot that struck him in the chest. He didn't notice the blood spreading across the denim of his jacket. He was focused solely on Mac. He didn't notice himself die.

Mac's scream filled the stagnant air of the shack. _Noooooo! This was wrong! It wasn't supposed to happen like this! It_ didn't _happen like this!_

Sadik's cold countenance loomed above her. "Oh, Sarah…" His voice was silken, soft. "Did you honestly believe you'd ever leave here? Look at you. You're still here. Look at your restraints. They're gone, and yet you're still here." It was true. The chains that bound her to the table had magically disappeared. "You are _still_ here, Sarah. You've never left…" He leaned in closer.

"And you never will."

* * *

 _0802 Local_

 _Mac's Apartment_

 _Georgetown_

Mac sat up with a start, immediately regretting it. Dizziness and nausea washed over her, the products of dehydration, poor nutrition, and lack of good sleep. She'd spent the night staring at the opposite wall, not really thinking, not really seeing, not having any idea how long she had actually lain there before she dozed off just before dawn. That terrified her. Her time sense had shorted out a few times, brief interruptions that lasted mere minutes. Never had it lasted an entire night. The loss of something so intrinsic to her put her into a near panic as she fell back into her pillow, closing her eyes against the spinning of the room. Her nausea intensified and unable to choke back the rising tide, she stumbled out of bed and half-walked, half-crawled to the bathroom. She barely made it, but it was mostly uncomfortable dry heaves anyway, not having had anything in her stomach for a long while.

Once her stomach calmed, she fell to the cool tiled floor, back against the tub. She needed to get hydrated, so she forced herself to get up again and fill a glass with water. A fresh wave of vertigo and nausea hit her, but she kept her control, breathing deeply until the majority of it passed. She then took slow, measured sips of her water, knowing if she chugged it as was her urge, she would just throw it back up.

It was there, sitting on the cool floor of her bathroom, that she forced herself to acknowledge a few truths:

One: She was the lowest she'd been since Uncle Matt picked her up from the hospital after the car accident that killed Eddie.

Two: She needed help. She could not do this on her own. Harm was right. He couldn't fix this for her. She couldn't fix it by herself.

Three: Things were bad for her. Very bad. Worse than even Harm knew.

Four: Sadik was near. Did she have proof? No. Did this go against the intel Clay had brought over? Yes. But it didn't make it any less true in her mind.

Five: She had lost Harm. She had _lost_ Harm. _LOST_ him.

She let that last thought swirl through her brain. It teased and mocked her. It reached out and grabbed hold of her heart and squeezed painfully. It took her breath away and hurt just as much as if she had been shot straight through the chest. She had lost him…

And it was her own damn fault.

She drank a few more swallows of her water, knowing it was one thing to acknowledge these truths and yet another to move on from there. She really didn't know where to start. Her mind was all over the place, had been for some time, and it would be no easy feat to pull it all together again. She needed to, though. Her very survival and sanity were on the line. Not knowing any better way to do it, she went one step at a time.

Yes, she was low. Underneath her happiness with Harm, there was a certain misery. It had been there since Paraguay, had been masked when Harm rejoined her life, but still lingered in the shadows. It made her jealous of the old teenaged Sarah that could just drink away her pain. Mac had been tempted, but thoughts of Harm's disappointment in her if she drank had prevented any slips yet. Of course, he was already disappointed in her, so at this point it probably wouldn't matter to him. Right at this moment, she wasn't even sure if it still mattered to her.

Harm had every right to be disappointed in her. He _had_ been right. She should have found a different counselor after things didn't work with Dr. McCool. She still found the whole idea a little bit abhorrent, knowing she'd have to relive that time in her life she would pay to forget. Then again, she relived it every day so what was her problem? _You just need to suck it up, marine._ Suck it up and let go of the stubbornness and pride that kept her from seeking out the professional help she needed. Suck it up and overcome her terror, yes, terror of having to delve into that time in Paraguay. It would inevitably lead to the dubious subjects of her childhood, her alcoholism, her parents, all her disastrous relationships, and of course, Harm. It would mean ripping off the Band-Aid she'd placed over her wounded soul and expose her demons to a stranger when she rarely acknowledged them herself.

Another fact she would need to acknowledge was that Harm had also been a Band-Aid. His love, his support, his very presence had tempered the chaos of her being. Since their trip to San Diego, he'd been there to hold her and comfort her and, she was forced to admit, enable her to continue denying that things were so bad. More than bad. Mac had been having nightmares and flashbacks since her first night home after Paraguay. Not so unusual given what she'd been through, and some nights she wondered if she would ever go to sleep again without seeing Sadik stabbing her in her pregnancy suit or the missionaries being murdered in front of her. She wondered what it would be like to fall asleep to the sound of silence instead of the sound of Clay's screams. Harm knew about these flashbacks, but once she gave up on counseling, she hid them from him as much as she could. She didn't want him to keep pushing therapy on her, so she had to make him believe she was getting better.

It had been a total lie.

She'd actually been having flashbacks with increasing frequency and in increasingly diverse places. It would happen in the laundry room, while driving on the beltway, and it had even happened once while having her hair done by Ethan. The most troublesome flashback happened during closing arguments. It had been a near disaster that occurred while she was summing up the Navy's case against a petty officer accused of stalking and harassing his CO. The defendant was an arrogant bastard, and she didn't envy Sturgis having to defend him. Mac had looked over at the members, and, as was her routine, established eye contact with each one of them to help make her point. All was going well until she met the eyes of the marine captain in the last chair. He was relatively nondescript, but his eyes happened to be the exact same shade and shape as those of the man who had snapped the restraints on her wrists before the planned torture. She could suddenly feel the hard table beneath her and the bite of the restraints at her wrists. She broke out into a cold sweat, stumbled over her words, had to stop for a glass of water to allow herself time to get back under control. It was humiliating. Both Sturgis and her co-counsel Bud had identical expressions of confusion and worry, and Captain Sebring looked less than impressed. Mac was more subdued as she finished her closing, sinking weakly into her chair as soon as she finished. She'd had to force herself to address the members, careful to avoid meeting the captain's eyes again. Bud then passed a note over to her, asking her if she was okay, which she answered with a brief nod. Another lie.

It was yet another lie to say she slept or ate adequately, despite her irritation with Harm for mentioning it.

When Harm had returned from his investigation late last Thursday night, Mac had already washed the makeup off her face. The dark circles under her eyes were obvious, and as soon as he got close to her, his expression turned from one of happiness at seeing her again to concern. He frowned and cupped her cheek, thumb passing under her eye. He didn't say anything, just told her to get ready for bed while he made some tea because 'he' was tired. They drank only a few sips of the fairly weak beverage before he took her cup from her, set it on the nightstand with his, and pulled her to him. He drew the covers over them, held her tight, and stroked her hair until she'd finally fallen asleep.

The seven hours she got that night didn't nearly make up for the three or so hours she had gotten the two previous nights, and had Harm not come back when he did, she probably would have been nearly catatonic in her exhaustion. It was becoming obvious to her that she was depending on Harm too much. As much as she loved him and loved having him there for her, she resented her need of him. Sarah MacKenzie didn't need anybody. She'd proven that time and time again. She had become weak, and she hated it.

There was one more truth she needed to acknowledge, but it was one she was loathe to examine. It was a feeling she was entirely ashamed of having, and it usually came after after a night filled with nightmares and very little sleep. It didn't matter if Harm was with her or not. She would wake up, drowning in all the pain and guilt, the terror once again weighing her down, and think to herself that it would have been better if Harm hadn't found her in Paraguay, better for her, better for everyone. She wouldn't be suffering now, her friends would have long since moved on, free of the bitter disappointment that was Sarah MacKenzie.

The thoughts were always fleeting, but they frightened her nonetheless. She was not actually suicidal, had no intention of hurting herself, but she remembered all too well the feeling of wanting to give up after Eddie died. The feeling of wanting to drink herself into oblivion instead of painfully withdrawing from alcohol. If Uncle Matt hadn't come for her, she had no illusions that she'd still be alive today. She wished Uncle Matt could be here now.

She wished Harm would forgive her and come back.

But neither was going to happen. She would have to accept that it was entirely her problem for it was she who had let things go for far too long. She should have been in therapy the moment she hit US soil, should have taken time after Paraguay to get her head screwed on straight. Dealing with it all now was going to be a lot harder. She longed to sink back into the numbness that had carried her through the days before Harm returned, had managed to a little bit yesterday, but the truth of the matter was that once Harm had reawakened so many emotions in her, she could no longer stifle any of them. Perhaps that was why everything was coming to a head. She hadn't allowed herself to experience a normal, emotional response to all she had gone through before; when she opened herself up to Harm's love, she finally opened herself up to all those suppressed and unwelcome feelings as well.

Mac sat on the floor of her bathroom for a while longer, still a little dizzy, still a little nauseated. She cursed her weakness. She was a marine, one who was convinced she'd be facing a terrorist again soon, and she couldn't even stand upright without wanting to vomit and tip back over. It was humiliating. It had to stop.

She forced herself to stand, clutching at the bathroom vanity until the room stopped spinning, and slowly made her way to her kitchen to find something to eat. She would go over the intel on Sadik again, knowing that it likely wouldn't yield any more than it already had. She mused that she hadn't ever told Harm about her suspicions regarding Sadik, despite him having a similar premonition. At the time, she hadn't wanted to worry him even more about it. She'd never pressed him to elaborate more on his dream and he'd never mentioned it again. Perhaps he hadn't wanted to worry _her_ …

Later, over a bottle of Gatorade and bowl of chicken noodle soup that she had had to reheat a couple of times because she couldn't eat it fast enough, Mac made plans. She would continue to press Clay on the whereabouts of Sadik; despite the questionable info he was getting, he was her only link to the CIA. And tomorrow, she would go into headquarters and request leave. It wouldn't be to go after Sadik herself; she knew he'd find her eventually anyway and she would prefer to face him on her home court. This leave would be all about getting the help she needed. She wouldn't be able to focus on that and her JAG duties; she knew herself well enough to know that she would always let work take precedence to her own needs if she continued to do both. She'd find a counselor, visit Uncle Matt, maybe spend some time in Arizona. She would get herself _together._ She checked online for flights heading to Kansas City, the closest airport to Leavenworth, looked into counseling options, and made a few notes before exhaustion overtook her. Her eyes drifted shut as she lay on her sofa, and her last thoughts before surrendering to sleep were of Harm. What he was doing. If they could ever be friends again. If he hated her…

 _Please don't hate me, Harm…_

* * *

 _0931 Local_

 _JAG Headquarters_

 _Falls Church, VA_

"Admiral, could I have a word with you, in your office?" Mac did her best to keep her voice steady, clenching her fists to stop their trembling as Admiral Chegwidden stood up from the conference room table. Her heart beat faster as he turned his focus entirely on her. Her pathetic reaction to him pissed her off but at least it made her more determined.

He looked over his reading glasses at her before reaching up and pulling them off. "Of course, Colonel. Give me twenty minutes. I have to return a call to the SecNav first." He grimaced; it was something both she and the admiral could commiserate on. Speaking to Secretary Sheffield was probably the last on anyone's list of favorite things to do.

"Thank you, sir." Mac turned smartly on her heel and practically ran from the conference room. She wasn't sure if she was glad she got a little reprieve or if it would have been better just to get it over with. She went directly to her office, sitting behind her computer and pulling up the list of flights to Kansas City. She planned to rent a car there and then drive the thirty-five miles or so to Leavenworth. There was a non-stop flight leaving for Kansas City that night from Ronald Reagan at 2205. Perfect. She would spend the night at a hotel near the airport and pick up a car the next morning if everything worked out today.

Mac had slept fitfully the night before, but she'd had a fairly restful sleep for a couple of hours on her couch yesterday which did help. She still couldn't tell time; she wondered if that skill was lost to her forever. She'd probably better buy a watch before she left town. Relying on the clock on her VCR or her microwave (which Harm had set for her) had been very trying.

Mac had dreaded her first meeting with Harm after Saturday's events. She got worried, however, when it got later and later and he still hadn't shown up for the staff briefing. Perhaps he was avoiding her. Perhaps he had been in an accident. Maybe he was de—. She squelched that thought. She was being ridiculous. As soon as the admiral arrived, he at least soothed her concerns. Harm had been sent to Norfolk yesterday where the _USS Cayuga_ was docked. Apparently, they were short one petty officer. He would be back later this evening, but Mac would likely miss him and she didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed. She fully intended not to be here tomorrow and for several weeks after; it may be a long time before they would meet again.

Mac watched the clock on her computer until it was time to go see the admiral. _That_ she definitely was dreading.

 _Oh well, here goes nothing…_

* * *

 _0952 Local_

 _JAG Headquarters_

 _Falls Church, VA_

 _Admiral Chegwidden's Office_

Mac tentatively knocked on the admiral's door. Jen was not at her desk to announce her, so she hoped this was alright.

"Enter!" Admiral Chegwidden's muffled voice came from behind the heavy oak separating his office from the anteroom. Taking a deep breath, Mac pushed the door open, forcing herself to briskly walk up to the admiral's desk. She stood at attention waiting for him to acknowledge her. He had been looking at a report of some kind but as soon as she was standing in front of him, he took off his glasses and set them aside. "Have a seat, Colonel."

Mac did as she was told, back still ramrod straight as she perched on the edge of the leather chair. "What can I do for you?"

 _Here we go…_ She brought her hands together to still their shaking. "A-Admiral, I…" She had to stop to clear her throat. The admiral looked on expectantly. She started to speak again but was derailed by a short coughing fit. _Well, this was going swimmingly._ Chegwidden reached under his desk, pulled out a bottle of water and handed it to her. She twisted off the cap and took a couple of perfunctory swallows while the admiral's keen eyes took her in.

"You seem nervous, Colonel. Is something wrong?" He actually did look concerned, which caused her a twinge of resentment. _Where was his concern while you were in Para—dammit, Mac, keep it together._

"N-no, admiral, I'm fine. I just…I need to request leave." Her last words came out in a rush.

"When?"

"Oh, uh, now, sir."

She had barely finished speaking when he said with finality, "Denied."

Mac's eyes widened in shock for a moment before she looked down at her lap, trying to regain her composure. It honestly hadn't occurred to her that he would refuse, which was rather naïve of her. Admiral Chegwidden was under no obligation to let her go; she'd just assumed it would be obvious to him and really everyone else that she was floundering. Clearly that wasn't the case. Either she was hiding it better than she thought, or no one cared enough to take a closer look. Mac, of course, believed it was the latter.

"Sir, if you could—"

"Why do you need this leave, Colonel?"

"Um, it's personal."

"Personal…is this about Rabb going TAD?"

 _What?!_

She willed herself to remain stoic. "I wasn't aware he was going TAD, sir."

The admiral's eyes widened at that.

"I thought he would be back from Norfolk tonight, sir."

"He will be, Colonel. But tomorrow he'll be leaving to temporarily replace the JAG on the _Henry_. Family issues, apparently."

"Oh." _Well, now once again Harm is leaving JAG because of you, MacKenzie._ That would certainly endear her to her colleagues. She felt the sting of tears. _No, not now. Not in front of the admiral._

"Colonel?"

Mac realized with a start that she was still staring at her hands. "Y-yes, sir?"

"I was telling you that with Commander Rabb out TAD, I couldn't possibly spare you right now. Maybe when he gets back…?"

"Oh." _So, he needed her for something…probably just needed a warm body to keep headquarters looking productive…_ "How, um, how long will Commander Rabb be gone?" she asked, looking at a point slightly past the admiral.

"It's anticipated that it will be about four weeks. He volunteered after I mentioned it to him during our conversation about Norfolk. I would have sent Commander Turner out to Norfolk then, but he insisted on going there too, said Ms. Chestnut was back in town and Commander Turner had plans with her."

"I see. Well, sir, if that will be all?" She stood up from her chair, thoughts so focused on this latest development with Harm that she forgot to stand back at attention and await his response. She turned, making it halfway to the door before the first tear slid down her face. She tried to subtly brush it away.

"Colonel!"

Mac jumped. She realized what she had just done but certainly did not want to turn back around and reveal her weakness. "Yes, sir?" she said in a near whisper.

"Turn around, please."

 _Oh shit._ But her only choice was to comply. She did as asked, but she didn't meet his eyes. What did it matter at this point if she was accused of disrespecting a senior officer?

"Mac…" His voice was uncharacteristically gentle. A few more tears slipped past her cheeks, probably taking her career as a marine along with them. "Look at me."

It was one of the harder things she had done, but she did manage to look the admiral in the eyes. "What's wrong, Mac?"

Mac could only shake her head. Clearly, she was not leaving this office without being utterly humiliated; she preferred not to add anything more to that. And she didn't need the admiral playing the concerned CO.

"Colonel, please return to your seat." He may have said 'please' but it was clearly an order. Once seated again, she stared at her hands while Admiral Chegwidden stared at her. She felt his sharp eyes burning a hole in her. Finally, he spoke. "Has something happened between you and Rabb?"

 _Well, obviously._ She could have snorted at that. But while perhaps the catalyst, it wasn't the reason she needed leave. _Maybe you should just tell him, MacKenzie._ She answered her own self. _Why, because he cared so much about you before?_

"Mac?" _Crap. I suppose he expects an answer._

"That's not it, sir."

"So, something did happen? What did he do?" Chegwidden seemed almost indignant on her behalf.

"It wasn't him, sir." _Why the hell was she sitting here having his very personal conversation with the CO she'd spent the better part of nine months avoiding when at all possible?_

"Then what's the problem?"

 _Just get it over with MacKenzie._ "Sir, I—I'm having some trouble dealing with what happened in Paraguay."

That did seem to surprise the admiral. "But that was nine, ten months ago."

"Yes, sir, I know. But I—"

"Didn't you get any counseling afterwards? I was told some of the situation there. I know it was difficult…"

 _Well, of course I didn't get any counseling._ "No, sir."

"But the CIA…"

"I wasn't CIA."

"But you still…"

"It doesn't matter, sir. Now, permission to go back to my duties?"

He gave a short, humorless chuckle. "As I recall, that's what you said to me after I chewed Rabb a new one. And I let you?"

"Yes, sir. You did. Permission to—"

"Denied. Mac, I'm sorry. I should have checked into things further and insisted you at least talk to someone." The admiral got up and moved to stand in front of her, arms crossed while he leaned against his desk. "I'm sorry," he said again.

"Sir, don't be. Really, I didn't matter, I mean it doesn't matter." She paled a little at her slip, sure the admiral had caught it. Her pulse jumped.

Admiral Chegwidden was silent for a while. She was back to staring at her clenched hands in her lap, feeling his eyes boring into her, fighting the urge to squirm.

The admiral pinched the bridge of his nose. "That's what you think, isn't it?"

"I-um, what, sir?"

"That you don't matter."

 _Well, isn't he astute._ She wanted to deny it, but she simply couldn't. So she said nothing.

"Mac?"

"Do you think you don't matter to JAG, to me?"

"I-"

"Is that why you've been avoiding me?"

 _What did Mic used to say? 'Well, give the man a meat pie.' No shit, admiral._ But of course, she didn't say any of that. "I haven't been avoiding you, sir. We meet nearly daily—"

"To discuss JAG business. Anything else, and you run."

Well, she did resent that. It didn't matter that it was true. "Sir, I don't know what you mean by that."

"Let's see, Mac. You bolt from the break room as soon as I come in. You ran into the house at the Roberts' barbecue as soon as I got there, and we didn't see you the rest of the night."

"I didn't feel well, sir. And, sir, this conversation is turning more personal than I really care for. I really would like to return to my duties." Mac's ire was starting to rise. Seriously, how dare he act like this. Like he was just "concerned." _Where was that concern nine fucking months ago?_

The admiral shook his head. "Not until we discuss this and your request for leave."

"You denied the leave, sir. There is nothing more to discuss." She shifted in her seat, preparing to rise.

"I can change my mind."

"Like you changed your mind about letting Harm back in the navy?" she snapped. She needed to get a better handle on her emotions before she said something that would land her in the brig.

"I was correcting a mistake. And I think I need to correct another one."

"And what would that be?" There hadn't been much improvement in her tone.

"I didn't insist you get counseling. I knew you weren't yourself, and I did nothing. I regret that, and I'd like to—"

Suddenly all the fury she had buried deeply within her concerning the admiral bubbled forth and she abruptly stood. "Go back and decide _not_ to leave me for dead? Decide that I mattered enough to send Harm to save me _without_ making him throw away his career? I was _this close_ to being tortured. I listened to Clay being tortured for hours. I listened to him scream.

"Did you know we were kept with two British missionaries? The woman told them that I wasn't really pregnant. She was hoping that would get her out of there. Sadik stabbed me in the stomach to prove that I wasn't. She was right! But do you know what he did? He had her and her husband executed. He shot them right in front of me.

"Then I didn't know if Clay would be dead before they threw me back in with him, or if I would even be alive to be thrown back in there. I still tried to hope, though. I knew the CIA wouldn't come for us, but I was a marine. The navy wouldn't leave me behind. When Harm and Gunny showed up, I thought, thank god. The admiral sent him for us. But I should have known better. Why would the navy send a JAG lawyer instead of a recon team? Why, indeed. Turned out the only one who cared enough to go after me had to give up everything because our own CO was just fine if I ended up in a shallow grave.

"And apparently, the rest of the office would have been okay with that too. Not sure if you noticed, but all of those supposed friends of mine didn't think I mattered either. But why should they? It was really my fault that Harm was out of the navy. I'm sure they wished I had been left down there too. Sometimes I wish I _were_ left down there!"

Throughout her rant, Mac had paced in front of the admiral. He hadn't changed his position, had just stood there impassively, still leaning against his desk while she most likely threw her career away. Those much-hated tears coursed down her face and there was a distant part of her mind that was absolutely horrified that she lost it in front of a two-star. She stopped moving, turning from the admiral, wrapping her arms around herself, shaking in anger and fear. She was hyperventilating by now and she could feel the tingle in her hands as the normal amount of carbon dioxide in her blood dropped. She did her best to calm down, waiting for the admiral to call the MP's to drag her away. Which would it be? The brig or the padded cell? She didn't give a damn.

The admiral's office was now silent except for the sound of Mac's ragged breathing. Mac wanted to run from there and then straight out of the building, but now that she was slightly calmer, she knew she'd have to face whatever punishment was in store for her. She waited for the admiral's fury, jumping when gentle hands grasped her shoulders and turned her around instead. "Come on, Mac. Let's sit for a while." He looked a bit pale, a bit shell-shocked, but he didn't look angry. Mac dutifully let him lead her back to her chair and push her down into it.

"I'm—I'm sorry, s-sir. That-that was uncalled for. I-"

Admiral Chegwidden sat down in the identical high-backed chair beside her and pulled out a clean handkerchief. He pressed it into her hand and after she had dabbed away her tears with it, he handed her the water bottle he'd given her earlier. "Drink, Mac." She did.

Neither spoke for several minutes, Mac still needing time to get herself under control. She was about to apologize again and demand appropriate sanction for her actions when the admiral spoke.

"Mac, if there is anything I regret the most in my career, it's letting you go down there in the first place. I should never have approved it. The next is that I didn't go down and get you myself. Five years ago, hell, even a year ago, I would have been right there with Rabb. There would have been no resigning. There would have been no accusing Rabb of not being a team player, no suggestion that he go off and wrestle alligators. You would never think that you didn't matter. But instead, I let the politics of this position interfere with being a good CO. I left my people out in the cold. I had my reasons for not wanting you all to visit Commander Rabb in the brig, very good reasons from a legal standpoint. But as his CO and his friend, I failed. I failed again when you missed your first check-in and I didn't immediately go to Director Kershaw and demand to know how to find you. I let you down, and I punished Commander Rabb—Harm, for what was my mistake. I am overstepping the bounds of a CO telling you all of this, I'm sure, but Mac…you mean more to me than you know." He reached over and grabbed her hand in both of his. "Mac, I—dammit, Mac, you matter. _You matter!"_

Now that did make her cry. Sure, she was embarrassed to be sobbing in front of her CO, but given her most recent outburst, she conceded that this was pretty minor. She was dimly aware that the admiral was speaking again. "Pardon, sir? I missed that," she sniffled.

"I said, I'm granting you immediate leave. For as much time as you need."

"Admiral, you know you don't have to do that. If Harm, I mean Commander Rabb, is going to be TAD, then I should stay."

"We'll figure it out here. Yes, we'll be short, but we've been short before. We'll make do." He smiled softly. "You matter too much to us. We need you in top form."

"Thank you, Admiral." She twisted the handkerchief in her hands. "Sir, I've been really struggling. Sometimes…sometimes I feel like I've never left Paraguay. I have nightmares, flashbacks…I tried counseling before…it wasn't a good experience."

The admiral looked on sympathetically. "Sometimes it takes a few tries before you find the right match."

She smiled sadly. "That's what Harm said."

"For once I agree with him." They were both quiet for a moment. "What happened between you two, Mac?"

"It was my fault."

"I know you and I know Harm. I'm sure it was both of you."

She did chuckle at that. "That's what Clay said."

"Oh lord, I can't believe I'm agreeing with _him._ "

"Well, if it makes you feel better, I'm sure it will never happen again. No, sir, this time it was me. Harm wanted me to get help, he could see I needed it. I walked out on him, and when he came over, Clay was there…"

"Were you—"

" _No!_ Absolutely not. But he and Harm…there is a history there. Harm…well, Harm..hates him. For Paraguay, for what nearly happened to me, and I've given him plenty of reasons not to trust me over the years. But Clay and I are just friends now. I care about him and we went through a lot together, but I don't think Harm will ever accept that. He sees Clay as the one who almost got me killed, the one that took me from him."

"I'll admit that I see Webb that way as well."

"Don't think I don't understand how Harm feels…but sir, it really is all my fault."

"I would try to convince you otherwise, but you're just as stubborn as Rabb. You two will be the death of me someday."

Mac gave him a wan smile, followed by a most inappropriate yawn. Eventually she was going to have to start behaving like a Lt. Colonel in front of her CO again.

"How long do you think you'll need?"

Mac thought for a moment. "I'm afraid it's going to take weeks, sir. I'm really messed up…"

"Probably not as much as you think."

"No, sir, I'm more messed up than a hound's breakfast."

"A what?"

Mac smiled. "Sorry, sir. It's something my uncle used to say, only 'messed' wasn't the word he used…"

The admiral laughed outright. "I'm sure."

Admiral Chegwidden reached out and touched her shoulder. "Well, Colonel, I need to work on your paperwork. Don't worry about anything. Clear what you can off your desk and secure as soon as you can. Your leave will officially start as of 1700 today."

"Thank you, sir. I appreciate what you're doing for me. I don't really have much I need to finish up with—the hard part will be finding a counselor, especially one that can get me in right away."

The admiral suddenly stood up. "I may be able to help with that." He walked behind his desk and flipped through his Rolodex. He found what he was looking for and removed a card along with a blank one. He copied the information and handed the new card to Mac. "This was, or is, a friend of Dr. Walden, uh, Sydney." Mac was surprised he had anything that would remind him of his former girlfriend. "She's worked with veterans before, has dealt with a lot of PTSD. I've actually recommended her to a few of my colleagues. They've all been very pleased, and Maria, Dr. Carmen, really is a lovely person."

Mac looked down at the card and frowned. "But sir, it looks like she's in San Diego."

"Your point, Colonel?"

"Well, I won't have a place to stay…and eventually I'll have to come back here."

"I can arrange quarters for you at the VOQ at Miramar, and I will call Dr. Carmen myself—and you take the time you need. Six weeks, twelve weeks, then you two can either talk over the phone, she will do that, or she can recommend someone here for you. Sound okay?"

"Um, yes, sir. That will be fine. I plan to visit Uncle Matt first—I can get a flight out tonight, and if she can get me in, I'll go see Dr. Carmen."

"Excellent. Now get out of here so I can get to work. Let me know when you are ready to leave, and I'll have all the info for you."

Mac stood up from her seat and stood at attention. The admiral's lip quirked up in a little smile. "Dismissed, Colonel."

"Aye, sir." She turned smartly on her heel, military protocol firmly back in place. She made it to the door but then turned back around. "Admiral? Thank you for doing this. Thank you for talking to me and not sending me to the brig—I certainly would have deserved it. I'll admit, this was kind of…"

"Weird?" the admiral interrupted, and Mac grinned a little.

"Yeah, just a little. But much appreciated."

"You are most welcome…and Mac, don't ever forget…"

"Sir?"

"You matter, Sarah."

Tears welled in her eyes. She blinked them back and opened the door. "Thank you, sir." She turned back before she stepped across the threshold. "Admiral?"

"Yes, Colonel?"

"Please don't tell Harm where I'm at. If he knows, he'll either come after me or he won't…if he did, I think I would need him too much. If he didn't…" She paused.

"Colonel?"

"If he didn't…I think it would kill me."

She let the door fall shut behind her.

 _End Chapter 31_


	32. Watched You Leave

_A/N: Here is Chapter 32! This one at least went faster than the last, maybe because it's a lot shorter. To my 'guest' reviewer—thanks for your kind words, you made my day and made me feel a lot better about the last chapter._

 _And my finger is much, much better. :)_

 **Delicate**

 **Chapter 32: Watched You Leave**

 _1548 Local_

 _JAG Headquarters_

 _Falls Church, VA_

Mac leaned back in her chair away from her computer. It had taken her longer than she would have liked, but she had managed to clear her desk and was finally ready go home and pack. She had secured reservations for the 2205 flight to Kansas City, arranged for hotel reservations and a rental car, and had picked up a folder of information from the admiral. She was set to see Dr. Carmen this coming Friday. The admiral had also informed her that he had pulled some strings to allow her more time with Uncle Matt, which nearly made her cry again. Her relationship with the admiral wasn't entirely mended, but they had taken several steps in the right direction.

Grabbing her cover and case and throwing her coat over her arm, Mac stepped out of her office and closed the door behind her. She had one more thing she needed to do before she left the building.

The bullpen was fairly quiet with only a couple of people still at their desks. She was relieved about that; she wanted to escape without too much conversation. Let the admiral explain her absence tomorrow. Mac crossed the room toward Harm's office, opening the door when she reached it. The fading light of the sun weakly illuminated the tidy workspace as Mac set her things on one of the two visitor's chairs. She slipped an envelope out of the outside pocket of her case, pausing to trace Harm's name on the back of it. It was written in her own hand as was the letter inside. She didn't want to leave without a final attempt to apologize as well as tell him goodbye. She hoped he wouldn't immediately toss it out, but she knew she couldn't blame him if he did. She stepped around his desk, touching the envelope to her lips before setting it on the keyboard of his computer. Mac sent a last prayer to the heavens for his forgiveness, then moved to retrieve her things. Her hip bumped a small gold picture frame, knocking it face down on the desk.

Mac righted it, her breath catching when she realized what the frame held—a picture of the two of them at Little AJ's baptism. Mac was holding their godson while Harm had his arm around them both. They were both looking down at the precious infant, obviously enamored with the boy. Mac remembered when the picture was taken; it had been snapped in between more formal poses. She had been thinking about the recently sealed baby deal, imagining without shame that they were holding their baby. She always wondered if Harm had been thinking the same; she could still feel the way his arm briefly tightened around her. As her eyes felt the familiar sting of tears, she ran the tip of her finger across Harm's image. She needed to get out of here before she started sobbing; she certainly didn't need everyone still here seeing her lose it in her coworker's office. Mac touched Harm's face one last time and moved to set it back down in its spot.

She sighed.

"That one was always my favorite."

Mac jumped, knocking the photograph down once again. Harm stood in the doorway, coat falling open to reveal his service dress blues. His cover rested in his hands and his expression was inscrutable.

The two stared at each other for long moments, Mac's heart speeding faster with each passing second. Finally, she blurted out the first semi-coherent thought she had:

"I can't tell what time it is anymore."

Harm's face remained impassive, but his eyes never left hers.

"I need to buy a watch. I don't have one. Not anymore. I gave mine to Chloe. She needed it more than I did." _Oh, that's brilliant, Mac. Just shut up and get out of here!_

Mac planned to do just that, but Harm stepped fully into the office and closed the door behind him. He engaged the lock and closed the blinds, still not saying anything. He set his cover on top of the nearby file cabinet and let his coat slip from his shoulders. He hung it on the hook on the wall, then leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest. Silence reigned.

Mac shifted on her feet, squirming under the intensity of his stare. _Why wouldn't he say anything?_ Needing the silence broken, Mac once again said the next thing that entered her mind. "I—I'm leaving. For Kansas. Well, Missouri, um Kansas City. I'm going to see Uncle Matt. At Leavenworth. In Kansas…Um, I guess you know that…I'll be gone a while, I guess you will too…um, I need to get going…

Harm still didn't move, still didn't speak. Mac was getting more agitated, at this point wishing that he would say anything, even yell at her, or just let her go.

"I left you a note; please read it. I just wanted to say goodbye and I'm sorry—I'm not sure when I'll be coming back, maybe not for a couple of months…

Harm's eyes widened at that, but he didn't interrupt her as she went on. "Anyway, I need to get going if I'm going to get packed and make my flight on time."

Harm nodded but made no move away from the door.

More seconds ticked by, Mac fidgeting more under his scrutiny. "Harm, please…I need to…um, things haven't been going well for me lately. I, um, haven't been sleeping…or eating enough. I'm losing weight…I'm exhausted…I keep seeing Paraguay. Those missionaries. I can't stop hearing…I can't stop hearing Clay's screams."

Tears had started to fall yet again, but Mac honestly didn't notice them. "I don't know what it's like anymore not to be scared. I look down and-and all I see is Sadik ramming that knife into me…"

Harm visibly paled at that

"The blood on my shirt—"

Harm audibly gasped.

"Clay's blood…" Harm looked pained as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

"I have nightmares almost every time I sleep…and sometimes, I don't understand it, they're not even about Paraguay…they're about you, about Joe…I'm afraid to go asleep…unless you're there…

She hadn't realized it, but Harm had gradually stepped closer to her. His arms were still folded over his chest, but the guarded expression he'd worn had relaxed somewhat.

"Harm, Clay and I…we didn't…he just came by to give me intel on Sadik. I know what you must think of me…but I wouldn't…not to you…" She was crying in earnest now and it was harder to get the words out. "But I do care about him. He's a good friend…he was there for me when…when no one else… Harm…I—I wouldn't, I didn't…"

Mac was startled when she felt Harm's hand on her face, his thumb brushing away her tears. Her eyes darted to his, and she was even more surprised to see a tear coursing down his cheek as well. "I know, Sarah," he finally spoke. His thumb continued its gentle caresses.

"Harm, I c-can't d-do it anymore…you're r-right. I need help. So I'm going…The a-admiral, h-he…Don't h-hate me." She bit her lip and looked up at him pleadingly. "I just don't want you to hate me."

Suddenly she found herself pulled into his arms. Harm held her tight against his chest and she felt his lips kiss the crown of her head. "Oh, Sarah…I don't hate you, baby." He rested his cheek against her hair, never relinquishing the fierce hold he had on her. She sobbed out her pain, wrapping her arms around his waist and holding him just as tightly. She kept repeating how sorry she was, although the crying made her largely incomprehensible. Harm whispered words of comfort, random words that eventually soothed her.

"Sarah, honey. It's going to be okay. You're going to be okay," he whispered as her tears finally subsided.

She was being weak but for once she didn't care. "I-I'm scared, Harm."

"I know, sweetheart."

"What if this doesn't work, what if I can't—"

"We'll keep working until it does, then." His voice was a little shaky.

"I'm so miserable, Harm. I'm not me anymore. I can't tell time. I'm so lost…"

"Shhhhh, honey." Mac felt Harm's hands moving around at her back for a few moments, then Harm leaned away and brought his arms down so he could grasp her left hand. A bit of gold winked at her and then Mac felt him clasp his watch around her wrist. "Keep it until you can again."

The watch was big on her, of course, dwarfing her slender wrist, but she found its weight comforting. "Thank you," she whispered.

They held onto each other for a few more minutes, Mac pulling away first. Harm still held her loosely about the waist. "I should get going, Harm."

"I know. Do you…do you need a ride to the airport?"

Mac should her head. "I'll just take a cab." Harm looked hurt, so she hastened to reassure him. She rubbed her hands up and down his arms. "No, Harm, it's just that I've become too dependent on you, and-and I'm afraid if you go with me I won't want to leave you…and you have your own flight to catch tomorrow, remember?"

"I'm sorry about that…I just needed to—"

"Harm, it's okay. I understand."

"You won't be back before I am, Sarah?"

"I don't think so. I think it's going to take me a while to…get better."

"I'll email you from the _Henry_ and I'll call—"

"No, Harm…let me call you. I'm going to miss you so much and I know I'll just run back to you if I talk to you. I need you too much right now and I have to learn to deal with things on my own again."

"Sarah…you don't have to do this alone…"

"Right now, I do. When you're around I can forget how absolutely horrible everything has been. I won't deal with all of this, at least at first, if you're there to keep picking up the pieces."

There was a suspicious moisture in Harm's eyes again. "But you'll come back?" His voice broke a little.

Mac reached up and stroked his cheek. "I'll come back."

"And you'll come back to me?"

Harm sounded like a lost little boy and it made the tears fall again. "Yes, Harm. If you want me to."

"I do," he said simply. He gave her another squeeze and let her go. Mac retrieved her coat only to have Harm take it from her and help her into it. He then gripped her shoulders, rubbing his thumbs up and down between her shoulder blades. He soon stepped away from her and she turned around. They locked eyes for several seconds, Mac buttoning her coat while trying desperately to find the words to say goodbye.

"Well, I guess this is it." _Oh, that was profound._

Harm's lips quirked up in an attempt at a smile. "Yeah."

But neither of them moved.

"I'll miss you," Harm said, sounding tentative. He reached out his hand, tracing a finger down her cheek. Mac grasped his hand with her own and held it to her for a moment before turning her head to press a kiss into his palm.

"I'm going to miss you, too, Harm." She pressed his hand to her face again. "Be safe, Flyboy."

"You too, Ninja Girl."

"Thank you for letting me use your watch." She let go of him, but they were slowly drifting toward each other again.

"You're welcome."

"I'm having trouble saying goodbye, Harm."

"I guess we're not as good at it as we thought."

"We really never were."

"It's always been you, Mac." The moisture in his eyes spilled over. Mac reached up as Harm often did and brushed a tear away before it was her turn to cup his cheek.

"Yeah?" She gave him a little half-smile as he nodded against her hand. A few more of his tears fell. "You're crying." Harm nodded again.

"I'm sad."

"I'm sorry." They were now standing close enough that their shoes were touching. "At least this time I'm not the only one crying." The corners of her lips turned up again as she alluded to the day that Harm had left her to return to flying. Her hand still rested against his face.

Harm reached up to brush her tears away as well, mirroring her as he held her cheek. "You weren't the only one then, either." And suddenly his lips were on hers, Mac not knowing who had made the first move. He tasted of salt as their shared tears mingled. The kiss was loving and it was desperate. They poured out all their love and all their grief at their impending separation in that kiss, and as they ended it with soft nips and caresses, Mac knew she would be drawing on the memory of it often during the weeks to come. Their lips parted and they rested their foreheads against each other for a few beats before Mac finally pulled herself free.

"It's time, Harm." She picked up her cover and case and stepped past him. As she unlocked the door, she heard his voice behind her and she turned her head.

"I suppose you won't let me walk you to your car?"

Mac gave him a sad smile. "Better not. It's already hard enough now to leave you." He nodded.

"I love you, Mac."

"I love you too, Harm." She forced herself to turn away again, knowing that walking out of his office tonight was one of the hardest things she'd ever had to do.

* * *

Later that night, as her plane lifted off and headed west, she ran her finger over the face of Harm's watch and across the band. Her head rested against the window as she prayed for her flyboy's safety and prayed that she would finally find some peace in San Diego. Her fears and insecurities about counseling and the future threatened to choke her, so she instead focused on the reassuring weight of the watch. She continued to slide her finger over the links of the band, feeling Harm's presence surrounding her, letting the repetitive movement soothe her.

In a rare and blessed moment of tranquility, she finally drifted into a dreamless sleep.

 _End Chapter 32_


	33. In My Head

_A/N: At long last Chapter 33! This is somewhat of a filler chapter, or at least is a break in the action, a little glimpse into Mac's therapy…sorry it took me so long to update—life in general, you know! To my guest reviewer Liz…thanks for the review and I have no intention of leaving this story unfinished! I've enjoyed writing it and I can't believe I started it all the way back in May…I anticipate it being finished by November, but we'll see._

 **Delicate**

 **Chapter 33: In My Head**

 _1310 Local_

 _Friday, January 30, 2004_

 _Dr. Maria Carmen's Office_

 _San Diego, CA_

"What are you hoping to get out of therapy, Sarah?"

"Mac. Um, I go by Mac."

"Okay, Mac. Sorry about that."

"That's okay."

"So..."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"What do you hope to get out of therapy?"

"Um…I guess…I guess…I want to be able to sleep."

"That's a good goal. What else?"

"What else? Um, I don't…I don't…I don't want to—to cry all the time."

"Also good. And?"

"There has to be more?"

"I think that there is."

"I j-just want it to be over. I want to s-stop s-seeing it. I want t-to…t-to…I'm s-sorry, I—"

"That's okay, Mac. And Mac?"

"Y-yes?"

"It _is_ okay to cry here."

* * *

 _Friday, January 30_ _th_ _, 2004_

 _1501 Local_

 _Mac's Quarters_

 _VOQ, Miramar_

It took Mac a couple of tries to slip her key into the lock and another couple of attempts at turning the knob. Her hands were trembling; she had just returned from her first therapy session and prior to that it had been a rough night of sleeplessness interrupted by nightmares. As dawn was approaching, she found herself reaching several times for the phone to call Harm before remembering he was in the middle of an ocean. His TAD was fortuitous, however; if she spoke to him, she would most certainly be begging him to come get her. Eventually she decided to call anyway just to hear his voice on the machine. It embarrassed her that she later called his phone two more times once she finally dragged herself out of bed.

Mac kicked off her shoes and sat down heavily on the couch. She really did wish she could get through a day without crying; that truly was a sincere goal for her. For now, what she really wanted was to crawl into Harm's lap and let him hold her, but as that wasn't possible, Mac reached for her laptop and opened up her email. She clicked on the message she received from him this morning:

 _Dear Mac (Sarah),_

 _Just wanted to let you know I arrived safely on the_ _Henry_ _. The captain has already told me I am there to be a lawyer, not Peter Pan. I guess that means he does_ _not_ _intend to let me fly, but we'll see…Anyway, I hope your visit with your uncle went well. I'm missing you terribly…I hope it's okay to tell you that…don't feel you have to respond to this email if it's too hard, but I do want you to know that I love you and remember, you are a strong person. You_ _will_ _get through this._

 _Sarah, remember to EAT! Even if it is dead animal. Just throw in a vegetable or two for me, please?"_

 _I'd better send this off and get to my duties. I think they already have a few cases waiting for me._

 _I love you, Ninja Girl_

 _-H_

 _PS: I'm not an overly religious person as you know, Sarah, but I've been praying for you daily. I have faith that God will hear my prayers and bring you back to me whole and healthy._

 _PPS: I'm sooo going to fly while I'm here…_

Mac smiled through her tears. As much as she worried about her flyboy whenever he was in the air, she loved how his joy at flying caused him to glow from within. She even loved the subtle swagger that appeared in his walk whenever he was on his way to an F-14. _Oh, Harm…_

Mac hit the reply button and started typing her response:

 _Dear Harm (Harmon),_

 _I'm OK. I miss you. Please be safe._

 _I love you, too, Flyboy._

 _Your Sarah_

Mac hit send and leaned back against the thin cushions of her sofa. Her reply wasn't much, but it was the best she could do for now. She closed her eyes for a few seconds, trying to calm her mind after her session. As usual, she was irritated at herself for her weakness; they hadn't even delved into the events of Paraguay. Mac had filled out a few forms and questionnaires, had done some sort of personality test that had Mac torn between being completely honest and not wanting to come off as _too_ crazy. In the end, she went with honesty. May as well put it all out there. Dr. Carmen had told her she would score it and they would discuss it on Monday…then they would really get started.

Ugh. Monday. She had a whole weekend to get through before her 0900 appointment with Dr. Carmen, or Maria, as she asked to be called. Mac wasn't sure she could do that; military protocol was too deeply ingrained in her to address someone in "authority" by anything other than their rank or title.

Mac thought about her new therapist as she idly stroked Harm's watch that still remained on her wrist. What to say about Dr. Carmen…

She was younger than Mac expected, probably only a few years older than herself. She was petite, impeccably dressed in a wine-colored suit that set off her hazel eyes, and her dark hair was cut in a sleek pixie. She had a warm and easy smile, and Mac couldn't help but compare her to Dr. McCool. Dr. McCool had been fairly stoic, not given to any extraneous commentary or idle chit-chat. Perhaps that was due to her being military; at any rate, her attitude was in stark contrast to that of Dr. Carmen.

As she led Mac down the hall to her office, Dr. Carmen kept up a steady stream of friendly chatter. Mac often found small talk irritating, but for some reason she was finding this soothing. Her fists, tightly clenched when she arrived, relaxed, and the tension in her shoulders eased a bit.

Dr. Carmen's office was warmly lit, no harsh fluorescent lights in sight. There were two overstuffed chairs upholstered in supple brown leather arranged about a mahogany coffee table. It would have seemed almost masculine to Mac if not for the various flower arrangements and candles scattered about the room.

The psychologist motioned Mac into one of the chairs as she poured a couple of glasses of water from the pitcher sitting on her desk. Mac murmured a thank you as she took her glass and sat down on the edge of the proffered seat…only to be essentially sucked deep into the softness of the cushion. An 'oh' of surprise escaped her mouth.

Dr. Carmen sat opposite her, chuckling a bit as Mac tried to pull herself up a bit. "Like it? A lot of my patients are flight risks. That chair tends to be a deterrent to that."

Mac found herself smiling back at her new therapist, thinking that maybe, just maybe, it would be okay here.

* * *

 _0901 Local_

 _Monday, February 1_ _st_ _, 2004_

 _Dr. Carmen's Office_

 _San Diego, CA_

"Ready to get started, Mac?" Dr. Carmen asked as she sat down opposite Mac.

 _Not hardly,_ Mac thought, but nodded anyway.

"Well let's do it then…at our last visit you completed some testing. Why don't we go over the results..."

* * *

 _1922 Local_

 _Monday, February 1_ _st_ _, 2004_

 _Mac's Quarters_

 _VOQ, Miramar_

Mac sat at the little desk in her quarters. Today's session had been even more difficult; it had certainly been more involved. Dr. Carmen had gone over the previous sessions testing. Among the highlights: She was apparently preoccupied with feelings of guilt and also showed difficulty in trusting anyone. The marine in her wanted to protest those results, but Sarah the person had to acknowledge that all of that was true. Dr. Carmen had asked a few questions about Mac's parents, her alcohol history, and her education. Then they finally turned to the real reason she was there. Mac was very halting in her answers and grew more so as the session went on. She left a bit agitated, but Dr. Carmen insisted she had done well. _Whatever, Doc._

Now a blank sheet of paper lay in front of her, a ballpoint pen at its side. Before she was dismissed, Mac had been given an assignment: write down the story of Paraguay, in as much detail as possible, along with what she was thinking and feeling at the time. Then she would have the pleasure of reading it aloud at her next session while being recorded so she could have the even greater pleasure of listening to it at home in between her sessions. With repeated exposure, she would eventually be convinced that it was all in the past, she was no longer in danger, and the mere mention of Paraguay wouldn't send her into a panic. Mac was skeptical, but she was willing to try.

Just not now…

Mac pushed back her chair with frustration. She had tried to do this right after her session, thinking that as she was already stressed, this couldn't make it worse. It turned out that was an incorrect assumption. Mac had picked up the pen, set it to the paper, and the next thing she knew, she was crumpled on the floor of her bathroom. Her lunch had not tasted any better coming up than it had going down.

Her second attempt was not going any better, although thankfully she wasn't vomiting. She lived with thoughts of Paraguay everyday, but putting it all down for the record would be like turning her thoughts into giant flashing neon signs.

Mac picked up the pen with shaking hand. Maybe if she just started with a few dates…

Like the day she showed up at Harm's apartment in that pregnancy suit…

The day she insisted on going back for Gunny…

The first day she had to listen to Clay's screams…

The day Sadik plunged the knife into the padding of her pregnancy belly…

The missionaries, dead at her feet…being strapped to the table already awash with Clay's blood…Harm…his jealousy…her anger…her never…

It was all too much. Mac flung the pen away from her and left the desk. She curled up on her bed, sobs wracking her slender shoulders. It was too much…

* * *

 _Wednesday, February 3_ _rd_ _, 2004_

 _0902 Local_

 _Dr. Carmen's Office_

 _San Diego, CA_

"So, Mac…how did your assignment go?" Dr. Carmen set down a glass of water in front of Mac before settling herself in her own chair. Mac just blinked at her a few times. _How does she think it went?_ Dr. Carmen's gaze didn't waver as she calmly waited for Mac's response. Mac finally shrugged and looked away.

"Difficult, I would imagine." The therapist seemed truly sympathetic.

"A bit." She picked at an imaginary piece of lint on her jeans.

"Were you able to complete it?"

Mac sharply looked back up at her therapist, brown eyes flashing. "Of course," she bit out.

Dr. Carmen leaned forward and touched Mac's hand. "Mac, I gave you a daunting task. I am very glad you were able to get all the way through it, but I would not think any less of you if you could only handle part of it."

She leaned back again, settling back in her seat, her expression calm and open. Mac nodded minutely and slipped a few crumpled pages from her purse. She set them in her lap, smoothing them out a bit before once again touching the cool gold of Harm's watch. Thoughts of him gave her a little more strength.

It had taken her all of yesterday to manage to write out the whole story, of course written with some generalizations given the classified nature of the mission. There were bouts of nausea, panic, and tears, but finally around 0200 this morning, she had it all written out. She fell into a deep slumber for a couple of hours until her alarm went off at 0700. She took a few ibuprofen with her breakfast to calm the headache she had woken up with. Well, maybe it couldn't exactly be called breakfast…half a piece of dry toast was by no means a balanced meal, but it was something and it helped wash down her pain reliever.

"You do that a lot, Mac."

"What?"

Dr. Carmen motioned to her hands. "Touch or stroke that watch, which is, I must say, a tad large on you. Where did you get it?"

Mac hesitated a minute. "Uh, Harm…he's my… _boyfriend? Lover?_ Both of those terms seemed too juvenile or too tawdry to be labels of what she had with Harm. In the end, she settled with, "He's my best friend."

"I see. You know, Mac…you actually smiled a little when you said his name." The psychologist flashed her own soft smile. "I suspect he's more than just a 'friend?'"

Mac blushed a little but felt her lips curve up a little again. She just nodded.

"What's the significance of the watch?"

"Um…it makes me feel closer to him."

"And?"

"There has to be more?"

"I think that there is." The words were familiar.

"Well, um, for as long as I can remember, I could tell time to the exact second. Never needed a watch or a clock. Harm gave me his watch because now, I-I can't. Not since all of this sort of blew up. It's…distressing."

Dr. Carmen nodded. "I would imagine. Let's make getting that skill back another goal."

Mac nodded as well. She would like that very much.

"Now, Mac, shall we get started?" The doctor motioned to the papers in Mac's lap. Mac instantly paled; this was the moment she had been dreading since Monday. She was going to have read her story of Paraguay aloud. And be recorded. And then listen to it…

"I—I guess so." Mac reached for a small sip of water and then sank further into her chair.

"Okay, Mac. I'll turn on the recorder…you just take your time, alright?"

Mac gave another silent nod. _Here goes nothing…_

* * *

 _0945 Local_

 _Dr. Carmen's Office_

 _San Diego, CA_

"Mac. Mac. _Mac!_ It's Maria _._ You're okay. You're safe. Just breathe for me. Slow, deep breaths…that's it."

Mac slowly became aware of her surroundings again. She had been back in Paraguay. She felt the stickiness of the heat and humidity, the heaviness of her pregnancy suit. And Clay…Clay was screaming again. She unconsciously put her hands over her ears. She could feel the cold sweat trickling down her temples as she looked down at her written words. She vaguely remembered she had read up to the moment they had taken Clay for his first torture session. Mac had given no specific names or locations, but the gist was there and anyway, Mac was obviously more than familiar with the whole story.

When Mac focused on her surroundings again, she noted that Dr. Carmen had come closer and was now sitting on the coffee table in front of Mac. She reached up and gently pulled Mac's hands from her ears.

"I'm s-sorry, D-Dr Carmen…I—" _Oh, damn…here come the tears again._ She brought her hands up again, this time covering her face with them.

"It's okay, Mac. Most people don't make it all the way through their story the first time…or even the second time. We'll just take a break for a bit." Mac nodded into her hands.

Once Mac had obtained a modicum of composure, she withdrew her hands, reaching for a tissue to dab at her eyes. The doctor handed her her water glass and Mac drank down a few swallows.

"I…um, thanks Dr. Carmen."

"You're welcome. And it really is okay for you to call me Maria." Mac gave her a short nod of acknowledgement.

Eventually Mac's pounding heart calmed, her palms ceased sweating, everything else ceased sweating. She looked over at the clock. _Five minutes left…_

Dr. Carmen— _Maria—_ noticed. "Not much time left. You may not think so, Mac, but you did good today. I'm just going to grab the tape and package it up for you. Now, I want you to listen to what we have so far at least three times before you come back on Friday, okay?" In the beginning, Mac was to be seen three times a week. It was going to be grueling, no doubt.

Dr. Carmen stood up and Mac followed suit. "Thank you, Dr. Car—Maria."

"You are most welcome. Mac, I promise you this will all get easier. On Friday we'll pick up where we left off, okay?"

"Okay." Mac followed Maria to the door. The therapist stopped and turned, putting her hand on Mac's shoulder.

"Mac, you are stronger than you think right now."

Mac could have snorted, but she only nodded. It didn't feel like she was strong. _Wasn't the very fact that she was in therapy evidence to the contrary?_

Maria surprised her by speaking again. "I know what you're thinking, Mac, but being in therapy is _not_ evidence of weakness. It takes more strength to admit you need help and follow through with it. Trust me."

Chocolate brown eyes met dark hazel ones. _Could she really trust that?_

The answer, she found, was yes.

With another nod, she was out the door.

* * *

 _February 25th, 2004_

 _1522 Local_

 _Dr. Carmen's Office_

 _San Diego, CA_

Today's session was not going well. Or perhaps it was…it was just extremely difficult. Mac had managed to get through the telling of the occurrences in Paraguay. She had listened to herself over and over. It still wasn't easy to get through, but it _was_ better. She had even had a couple of nights in a row without nightmares. She was eating a bit better; she had still not put on much weight, but she made sure she had three meals a day. Things were slowly improving.

One thing that hadn't changed in the past month was how much she missed Harm. He emailed her two to three times a week, and her responses had grown more elaborate. But it wasn't enough. She wanted to be held by him, kissed by him. She missed him in her bed. She missed _him._ Mac still felt strongly that it was for the best that he was TAD; she really needed to get through some of her recovery on her own. He was such a solid, comforting presence and she knew that at least early on it would have been too easy to turn to him completely, forgoing the professional help. Now that she felt more stable, she would at least like to talk to him on the phone. She still couldn't help but call his home phone every few days; the warm timber of his voice on the machine was comforting and helped chase away some of the loneliness.

Yes, Mac was lonely. She was getting out more, shopping, taking in shows, so she wasn't completely isolated from people, but of course it wasn't the same. Interestingly, she did speak to the admiral a couple times a week; he would call to check up on her, ask her about her therapy, make sure she didn't need anything. He would keep her up to date on Harm as well as daily life at headquarters. It had been a bit awkward at first, but over the course of the last weeks, he had become almost…chatty. Mac started to look forward to his calls, their relationship was gradually getting better, and at the end of every phone call, he made sure to tell her she mattered. It made her tear up every time. Perhaps it wasn't conventional talk between a CO and his subordinate, but it was comforting, and she could feel his fatherly concern through the phoneline.

Mac and Maria had spoken about the admiral and her anger and resentment toward him. She had definitely lost her faith and trust in him for a while and she wasn't certain she could ever completely trust him again. In a weird way she felt almost guilty that she was regaining some of that trust. Her inner voice often called her a naïve fool and frankly she had always had difficulty trusting kindness from anyone. Through her career in the marines, she had learned to trust her own gut. She was rarely wrong in that, but recent events had shaken her faith in herself as well. Maria was slowly helping her understand that while it was okay to be wary, it was also okay to start trusting herself and others again.

The two had also discussed her relationship with Harm. Mac had told Maria about that horrible night when he'd been so uncharacteristically cruel. She told her about how wonderful he'd been since. And of course, Mac told her about the 'never' that nearly ruined them. She still felt tremendous guilt over that despite Harm's forgiveness, and Maria had been working with her on ways to adjust her thinking about those events.

Her alcoholism was discussed as well, which of course led to discussions about her alcoholic father and her absent mother. Thank goodness Maria hadn't told Mac that she only became an officer in the Corps and a lawyer so her parents would love her. The issues with her parents had helped shape her, no doubt, but she was so much more than just Joe MacKenzie's stupid, tramp daughter. So much more than a teenager whose mother couldn't be bothered to get her only daughter out of an abusive situation as well.

All of this tied into today's session. Mac had confided in Maria about her fears of not mattering. It started with her parents, both of them having abandoned her in their own way, and it had affected every relationship since. Mac didn't want that anymore.

Through their talk today, Mac realized that one of the things she missed most in her life was the love of a mother. Not _her_ mother, per se, but a mothering figure to help guide her and provide unconditional comfort and love. It broke her heart that that wasn't possible, hence the difficulty with today's session.

It was toward the end of her appointment. Maria looked at her with sympathy, her brow furrowed in concern. "Mac, today's session was a tough one, maybe not as tough as our earlier ones, but still difficult. It has always concerned me that you are here on your own; is there anyone stationed here that you know? For some reason I feel like you need someone more today."

Mac shook her head. She brushed her tears away and squared her shoulders. She would be fine by herself. She always was. She told Maria that she could always call the admiral or Harriet if need be, although she knew she would do neither. It was still difficult for her to ask for help.

Maria still looked concerned but let Mac go after setting up their next session. Mac stepped out of the office. It was a warm, sunny day, a nice change from the last couple of days. They were at the tail end of the rainy season here in San Diego; however, despite the unpleasant weather in the previous days, total precip was still less than most places in the US.

Mac slid into her rental, pausing as she was about to insert the key in the ignition. Maria was right. It would be nice to be able to have someone to keep her from being so lonely tonight. Having Harm near would have been nice, but for the first time in years, Mac acknowledged that she really did want to be mothered. Taken care of. She felt tears forming again; it was still too easy for her to cry. She leaned her head on the headrest of her seat. _God, I'm pathetic,_ she thought. _No, no. I have to stop thinking that way._ She started the car and prepared to back out of her parking space, telling herself it was okay to want a mother's comfort, especially since it had been sorely lacking. Oh, how she wished her mother had been like Trish Burnett.

Trish.

Harm's mom.

Who lived just up the road in La Jolla.

Barely a half hour from here.

Could she do that? Just call her out of the blue? _She has told you you're family…she did tell you to visit anytime, even without Harm._ But would Trish be offended that she had been in town for four weeks and didn't say anything?

 _No, you are just trying to make excuses not to call. Just call her. You've talked to her on the phone many times since you've been with Harm. Call her!_

Mac pulled her cell out of her purse.

* * *

 _1638 Local_

 _Burnett Residence_

 _La Jolla, CA_

Mac nervously stepped up to the front door of Harm's parents' home. Trish had been happy to hear from her and before Mac could even ask, she had invited her over immediately. It had taken Mac a bit longer than she expected to get over there; the afternoon traffic had picked up considerably since Mac had left for her therapy session. She hesitated before reaching for the doorbell. _Oh, stop being silly and just ring the bell!_ But just as she had almost made contact with it, the door was thrown open. There stood Trish, stylishly dressed, an excited smile on her face. "Frank! She's here!" she called over her shoulder before pulling Mac in in a warm embrace. The familiar sting of tears hit her again once she felt Harm's mother's arms around her. It felt so good to be held by the older woman.

Trish loosened her hold on her and leaned away a bit. "Oh Mac, it's so good to see you." But then she must have noticed the watery sheen of Mac's eyes. "Mac, dear, what's wrong?" Trish's obvious concern and affection for her was Mac's undoing. She burst into tears. Trish was quick to pull her in for another motherly embrace. Mac cried harder and for a few moments Trish just held her. Finally, she pulled away and slipped her arm around Mac's shoulders, drawing her in to the house.

"Oh, Mac, honey, come in and tell us all about it. We'll take care of you."

Mac nodded and let Trish lead her in. The door closed behind them.

 _End Chapter 33_


	34. Flickered

_A/N: So, here's another chapter!_

 **Delicate**

 **Chapter 34: Flickered**

 _1652 Local_

 _Burnett Residence_

 _La Jolla, CA_

Mac sat huddled in the corner of the Burnetts' living room sofa. She couldn't deny she was horribly embarrassed by her breakdown and had apologized profusely for it, but Trish merely waved it away and pulled her into another motherly embrace. The older woman then led her to the living room where Frank had been waiting for her. He, too, showed his concern for her as he led her to the couch while Trish went to get them all something to drink. Frank was a solid, fortifying presence, and the two sat in comfortable silence broken only by an occasional sniffle from Mac.

Trish returned shortly with a tray of steaming beverages: tea for her and Frank, and hot cocoa for Mac. It was topped with what appeared to be real whipped cream and it smelled heavenly. She took a sip; it tasted just as heavenly. "Thank you, Trish."

"You're welcome, dear. I used to make that for Harm whenever he was sick or upset, and although he'd never admit it, he always asks for it when he's here. Except for your last visit…I suppose he didn't want you to see him drinking something so 'unmanly.'"

Mac chuckled a bit. "That's actually rather amusing. I came over one day unannounced and he was in the middle of making some. He tried to claim he was getting it for me…you should have seen him blush and stutter when I reminded him that he didn't know I was coming."

Both Frank and Trish laughed with her, then Frank stood up. "I'll let you two get caught up. I'll just go ahead and start dinner." He kissed Trish on the cheek as he passed by her. The gentle show of affection made Mac smile, but it also made her miss Harm all the more. _Here we go. Cue the waterworks!_ Mac brushed a new tear aside.

Trish set some tissues in front of Mac. "Now, Mac, honey, please tell me what's wrong."

Mac stared at the tissue she was now twisting through her fingers for several seconds before she finally looked back up at Trish. She shrugged. "Nothing, really…"

Trish's eyebrow quirked up, much like Harm's did when he was skeptical about something. "Does this have anything to do with my son? He didn't tell us you'd be out here."

"No…it's not about Harm. And—and he, ah, doesn't know I'm here."

"I suppose he isn't always so easy to catch when he's on a carrier." Trish blew on her tea before taking a careful sip.

"Well, no, I mean, we do email each other…but I didn't tell him I was coming out here." Mac crossed and uncrossed her legs nervously.

"When did you arrive, dear?"

 _Of course, she would ask that._ "Um…about a…about a month ago."

"I see." Mac looked over at Trish again, expecting disapproval to be evident in her expression. Instead all she saw was an encouraging smile.

"Um, I'm sorry I didn't call you right away. I just had a lot—"

"Mac, you don't need to explain. I'm sure you've been busy."

 _Yeah, busy getting my head shrunk._ She decided to come clean. "Trish, did Harm tell you about…about our fight?"

"No..."

"Um, shortly before I came out here, we—we had a pretty bad argument. Well, mostly it was me arguing. I've been having some trouble lately…because of that time in Paraguay. It _was_ pretty bad there…if Harm hadn't come when he did, my partner and I would be dead right now. My partner was tortured…they were going to torture me…Harm got there just in time. It was…horrifying, and I didn't get any help afterwards. Everything finally caught up to me and I wasn't dealing with it. Harm knew it, tried to make me see it, but I...I blew up at him and walked out. Things just got worse and finally I admitted to myself that I couldn't do this alone anymore. I've been here for counseling. Harm and I—we made up. He's been so…wonderful, but I—I didn't want to tell him where I was because I knew he would try—try to—"

"Play Superman?" Harm's mother gave her a knowing look.

"Well, yes. He was going TAD anyway, and I felt I needed to stop depending on him so much. I figured if he knew I was here he'd eventually come for me and I would let him take me home and then _not_ do therapy." Mac paused and watched her foot as it toed back and forth through the lush carpet beneath it. No one said anything for a moment.

"I think I understand, Mac. How are you doing now?" Trish asked calmly.

Mac stilled her foot. "I'm doing much better, thank you. It's been difficult, but it's getting easier. As soon as Harm gets back from the _Henry_ I'm going to call him. I think I'm ready now."

"Well, I am glad things are looking up for you. I know Harm has been worried about you. Oh, no, dear, he didn't give us any details, but a mother can always tell."

There it was…what she didn't have. A mother who could tell when she was scared, worried, or upset. She sighed and set her half-empty mug of cocoa on the table in front of her. "Harm…he's lucky to have you and Frank."

"Oh, I know that, dear…thankfully he's finally figuring that out!" She gave a little laugh before turning serious again. "Well, Mac. Tell me what brings you by today…and why you were so upset."

Mac squirmed a bit. "Um…today's session with Maria—my therapist—was a bit difficult. We, ah, talked about my parents. My mother…she left when I was fifteen. I've only seen her once since then, and that meeting was…unsatisfying. My father, he was abusive. An alcoholic. It just sort of hit home today that I'll never have what most people I know have…parents that love me and are there for me."

She looked over to Trish through her lashes. The older woman was looking at her with obvious sympathy. Those ever-ready tears welled up again and Mac brusquely swiped them aside.

"I guess I…I just needed a mom." Mac looked down at her lap, embarrassed by what she had just revealed. But before she knew it, Mac felt the cushion beside her shift. Strong, feminine arms went around her and she felt a kiss pressed to her temple. A hand stroked her hair.

"Oh, Sarah." Trish's voice was soft, loving. "I'm here."

* * *

 _Two weeks later…_

 _1422 Local_

 _Burnett Residence_

 _La Jolla, CA_

Mac pulled out her key and let herself into Frank and Trish's home. Since the afternoon she had shown up on their doorstep two weeks ago, she had been staying here. Trish and Frank had insisted, and Mac, feeling more secure in her progress with therapy, decided that it would be nice to be among friends. _Family,_ she corrected herself. The day after her first visit here, she packed up her things, checked out of the VOQ, and moved in with the Burnetts. They treated her as one of their own, and she had the pleasure of learning about Harm as a child while looking through old photo books. Naked Baby Harm was just too adorable. She hoped someday to have a little baby boy that looked just like that; she realized that since the day she met Harm she had been picturing herself with a little boy with his blue-gray eyes and killer smile. It suddenly dawned on her that her baby deal with Harm was coming due in two short months. The thought filled her with warmth.

Harm still didn't know she was in La Jolla. His TAD had been extended beyond the original estimated time, and just when she decided to let him know where she'd been for the last month, there was a communication blackout. A brief email from the admiral yesterday informed Mac that Harm was due home in the next week. As soon as he was back on American soil, she was going to call him. Maybe he would be able to get a few days of leave and come out here; Mac didn't yet feel she was completely on solid ground enough to resume her duties at JAG, despite her vast improvement. She felt she needed more time away and continued therapy with Maria, and she hoped Harm would be willing to come to her now. They had emailed each other as much as possible before the blackout, Mac learning to be far more open about her therapy progress and many other subjects. She decided it couldn't hurt to check her email to see if the blackout had finally been lifted.

Mac retrieved her laptop, clicking on the email icon while praying for a message from her sailor. As her email was loading, she yawned hugely. Damn, but she had been tired the last few days. She thought that was odd given she was sleeping so much better, but she figured she also had a lot to make up for given the months and months of sleepless nights. She suspected she was also coming down with something. She had been a bit achy before and today she was a little queasy, her appetite diminished. Her yearly bout of the flu wasn't going to let her escape this time.

Email now ready, her heart leapt when she saw that Harm had indeed sent her a message and she nearly squealed in delight when he informed her he'd be back in Washington in three short days. She was just about to reply when her stomach suddenly heaved. She was out of her chair like a shot, emptying the contents of her stomach into the toilet in the one bathroom in the house without a shower. _Awesome. Here we go. Ick_. She hoped the Burnett's wouldn't get this too.

The vomiting seemed to sap what little stamina she had left, so she decided she could email Harm later. For now, she'd take a hot bath followed by a long nap. Maybe she'd get lucky and good health would be restored to her after a couple hours of shuteye.

* * *

 _Three days later…_

 _1301 Local_

 _Burnett Residence_

 _La Jolla, CA_

Mac paced around the living room in the Burnett's spacious home. Her cellphone was to her ear, and once again she heard Harm's familiar message. _Dammit._ He was supposed to have been home by now. Oh, she knew all about delays in the military, but she dared to hope that the universe would figure it owed them one. Apparently not.

At least she felt a little better. She was still achy and tired, but there were no further episodes of vomiting. Frank and Trish were as healthy as ever, probably because she made them keep a healthy distance. Her appetite had improved a bit, and for that, she was thankful. Both Trish and Frank were excellent cooks, though they did not seem to share the same dietary preferences as their son.

Now she needed something to occupy her time. Her sessions were down to twice a week and this was an off day. She hadn't spoken to the admiral in a few days; she probably should call him as he was the one most likely to have news of Harm. She could also call Clay. She knew he was back in town after a recent mission and she hadn't checked in with him about Sadik since early last week. At that time, Sadik was supposedly still bouncing back between Belgium and Spain. She dialed Clay's number only to get his voicemail as well. She tried the admiral next, but he was locked in a meeting with the SecNav. _Honestly, now that I finally want to talk to someone no one wants to talk to me!_

She decided it would be a good day for another long soak in the tub. She headed up the stairs, and, knowing the Burnetts were going to a dinner for Frank's work, she chucked off her top and started unbuttoning her jeans as soon as she hit the hall to her bedroom. Stopping at the bathroom first, she turned on the water to fill the tub, then walked into the bedroom to finish undressing as soon as the temperature was to her liking.

As soon as she hit the door, she was stopped by a wave of vertigo. _Dammit, couldn't this virus just do its thing and leave?_ Once her equilibrium was back she turned on the light and moved into the bedroom.

Only to have the hairs on the back of her neck stand straight up.

Something was _wrong._

And it wasn't because she was ill.

Cursing the fact that she didn't have her sidearm with her, Mac inspected her room. The closet door was open and the closet itself was largely empty save for the few clothes Mac had brought. She carefully reached for the light switch and found the increased illumination of the closet did not reveal any new secrets. Mac's heart pounded in her chest.

Putting herself full marine mode, Mac scanned the room further. Nothing seemed out of place…

 _Wait..._

A glint of something on the bed caught her eye. She cautiously moved forward, looking around as she approached the bed. There in the center of it was the object that had captured her attention. She bent down for a closer look…

It was a shiny, sparkling, perfect diamond.

 _End Chapter 34_


	35. Thinking About You

_A/N: Here is the next installment! It's a little short. Trying to build the suspense, you know._

 _A/N: If you reread Chapter 34, you may noticed a tweaked a few things and I've changed some times. None of it really affects the overall outcome, I just liked it better._

 **Delicate**

 **Chapter 35: Thinking About You**

 _1317 Local_

 _Burnett Residence_

 _La Jolla, CA_

All the color had drained from Mac's face. Bile rose up in her throat and her vision tunneled. For one brief moment, Mac was afraid she was going to pass out as she stumbled back into the dresser. She fought it though; despite what the diamond meant, she was not going to give into _this_ weakness. She closed her eyes, took a few deep breaths, and called back her inner marine. Once her equilibrium was restored, she opened her eyes and stepped closer to the bed. The little diamond sparkled in the sunlight streaming through the window, looking so delicate and innocuous when in fact it was a harbinger of terror. Of death. Of _evil._

Sadik had returned.

He had finally come for her.

The wait was over.

A steely calm descended on Mac. She had wondered how she would react when faced with the reality of Sadik's return, and now she knew…with cold calculation. Her logical mind ran through various scenarios. Obviously, she needed to keep the Burnetts away from here. She also had to contact Clay and warn Harm.

 _Harm._

A terrible realization dawned on her. Harm should have been back in Washington by now. He wasn't answering her calls. On any ordinary day she wouldn't have thought much of it, but today…she knew deep down in her soul that Sadik had done something to Harm. What, she could not say, but she knew without a doubt he was in deep peril. Mac sprang into action.

Pulling a duffle bag off a shelf in the closet, she opened it to reveal the case that held her sidearm. When she packed she had briefly thought that bringing it was somewhat silly. But then with Sadik still out there…she was more than grateful that caution had prevailed. Ever aware of her immediate surroundings, she bent down to pick up the clothes she had flung off mere minutes ago.

Back in the bathroom, she shut the water off just before the tub nearly overflowed and quickly dressed. She had the sense that Sadik was no longer present in the home and moving farther away, although she wasn't banking on that. She pulled her cellphone out of her pants pocket, hitting the speed dial for Clay.

 _Dammit. No answer. Come on Clay. Where are you?!_

Mac decided to search the house, mindful of all the many tricks Sadik could use to hurt its occupants. As she moved from room to room on the current floor, she tried to reach Frank and Trish. No luck. A wave of nausea washed over her once again. Sadik could have already hurt Harm's parents. No, they had nothing to do with any of this, but hurting them would hurt the people that foiled his plans in Paraguay. With a certainty she couldn't explain, she knew in the end that Sadik was gunning for her. He wouldn't hesitate to seek out those she loved and destroy them one by one while she waited for the ultimate confrontation. He would then come for her and play out the remainder of his sick game.

 _But not if she could help it._

Mac started on the lower floor. She didn't sense anyone near, but then she looked out the window of the den...Martha, the housekeeper, generally parked her car toward the back of the house. Her red Nissan sat in its usual spot in easy view of Mac's position. Mac hadn't heard the woman moving about the house and she was certain Martha hadn't arrived here after she herself had returned earlier from a nearby coffee shop. A sinking feeling of dread settled on her as she headed toward the kitchen.

All was quiet as Mac gazed about the large room. Nothing appeared out of place. The appliances gleamed, the stone countertops shown. To Mac, the silence of the kitchen was eerie. It felt heavy, the weight of it settling on Mac's shoulders. Her pulsed quickened as she noticed the door to the walk-in pantry cracked open slightly. Every part of her wanted to turn around and walk away. Her inner voice screamed at her to run. But she had to know.

Mac crossed the room, her movements slowing as she approached the pantry door. The nausea she had been fighting for days came back again full force and she had to choke back the bile. All too soon her hand touched the brushed silver of the doorknob and, stealing herself, she pushed it open.

Or at least she tried to.

The door only moved a scant few inches before it hit another object. Mac heard the whimper escape her throat as she forced the door open enough to peer around it. _Oh, god…_

Martha lay crumpled on the floor, her neck at an odd angle. It was obviously broken, and Mac imagined she could see fear still emanating from Martha's lifeless eyes.

Letting the door fall away from the housekeeper's body, Mac backed away slightly and turned. She was trembling. Not with fear, but with rage. Rage and grief. That monster had killed an innocent woman, a woman who had done nothing but be in the wrong place at the wrong time. A woman whose only sin was an incidental association with one Sarah MacKenzie.

Apparently, her curse wasn't just confined to the men in her life…

Mac shook her head. _No._ _Stop thinking that way. This was all Sadik._

Mac finished her survey of the house. The only place left to search was the terrace.

 _The terrace…_

Mac still had the images of that nightmare from months ago burned into her brain. She hadn't set foot out there in the two weeks she'd been here, and she didn't know if she could now. But she had to.

With great trepidation, Mac passed the kitchen where poor Martha lay and walked toward the terrace doors. All to soon she was before them. She hesitated a moment before lifting her right hand toward the doorknob. She started to turn it...

 _NO!_

The voice in her head which sounded suspiciously like Harm's made her jump back, as if the doorknob itself were on fire. She suddenly knew with every fiber in her being that to go out there was to face certain death. Sadik wasn't out there; she still believed that, but he had done something…something meant for Trish and Frank. Sadik would want to be face to face with her to exact his revenge, would never just set a trap for her and watch from a distance. But something out there was done in haste…it would not work as it was intended to. Mac didn't know how she knew, not that she ever did know how her 'gift' worked, but that didn't make her believe it any less. She turned on her heel and hurried away from the terrace doors.

Mac needed to formulate a plan. She needed to speak to Clay. And most of all, she needed to reach Harm. Mac pulled her cell from her pocket. She called Harm again and again there was no answer. It was the same with Clay. _Dammit._ Calling the police was not an option. This was bigger than that. She decided to try the admiral again.

She nearly cried with relief when Coates patched her through to Admiral Chegwidden. As soon as she heard his gruff voice on the line, Mac broke in. "Sir, have you heard from Harm?"

"No…I was expecting him to stop by here about…well, three hours ago, actually."

Mac gasped. _No..._

"Mac, what's going on? Is it— "

"Yes," Mac interrupted. "Admiral, you need to send someone to his apartment. Now."

"Are you safe, Mac?"

"For the moment." She blinked back tears. "Admiral, _please…"_

"I'm on my way, Mac."

"Thank you. Be careful, sir." Mac hung up the phone. She vaguely noted that the dull headache she had felt for days was now pounding like the drum corps of a marching band as she paused for a moment to gather her wits.

She leaned her back against the wall under the stairs. A picture of Harm taken the day of his commissioning ceremony graced the wall. His expression was serious, but he couldn't completely hide the mischievous gleam in his blue-gray eyes. _Please be alright, Flyboy._

It was so quiet around her that Mac's own breathing sounded in her ears like waves crashing on the rocks. She closed her eyes, trying to focus on Harm and Sadik. It was rapidly clear that she couldn't do both, so she reluctantly let go of her sailor and focused in on the terrorist.

She jumped as the ringing of her cell startled her. Fumbling with it a moment, Mac put the phone to her ear as she hit the answer button, praying it was word about Harm. "MacKenzie."

"Hello, Sarah."

Mac's grip tightened on the cell and ice pierced her heart. Cold sweat trickled down her spine. "Sadik."

"Ah, you remember. How are you?"

"Well, I'm a hell of a lot better than Martha."

"Ah, yes. That was…regrettable. The poor woman was terribly frightened. She begged, but in the end, she understood what had to be done."

 _That sick bastard._

"So, Sadik. Did you call for something specific or did you just want to chat?" She kept her voice even while fury pounded in her veins.

"Always to the point, aren't you, Sarah. Well, I have been thinking about you, every day since I left you in Paraguay. I would like to know if you found what you needed in San Diego." His voice was soft, reedy, and it dripped with saccharine concern.

 _What a snake._

"Yes, thank you for asking. Now, what do you want?"

Sadik chuckled and it made Mac's skin crawl. "Why, Sarah, you seem…stressed. I merely wanted to tell you that I think you should come home."

"And why is that?"

"Just come home, Sarah. It is time."

With a click the call disconnected and and Mac lowered the phone from her face. She looked on in disgust at her shaking hands. She wanted to vomit. She wanted to wrap her hands around Sadik's neck and squeeze until the life faded from his reptilian eyes. She wanted to shoot him between those eyes.

She raised the phone again, intent on phoning the airlines to get a flight back to DC. It flew from her hands as a sudden frantic knocking sounded at the door. _Who would be—"_ The knocking resumed.

Mac was frozen in place…until she heard the voice on the other side of the door. She barely remembered sprinting to the heavy double doors of the front entrance, but suddenly she was unlocking the door and flinging it open.

She found herself swept up into waiting arms.

 _End Chapter 35_


	36. Crashing Down

_A/N: Well, here is Chapter 36! Thank you for all the kind reviews—they keep me going. Please forgive me, I'm really not great with the "intrigue" aspect of stories, so if anything seems farfetched or just plain dumb, please be kind!_

 **Delicate**

 **Chapter 36: Crashing Down**

 _1418 Local_

 _Burnett Residence_

 _La Jolla, CA_

The figure on the other side of the door pitched forward just a little as the door swung away from him; he had obviously been preparing to knock again. He recovered quickly, however, as a grateful Mac tumbled into his arms. He gave her a quick hug and set her back on her feet. "Are you okay, Sarah?"

"I'm better now, Clay."

Webb narrowed his eyes at her. Mac noticed his stare and answered it with a firm, "I'm fine." Clay nodded, but as he gazed pointedly at her shaking hands, it was clear he didn't buy it.

"You know, don't you." It was a statement, not a question.

Mac nodded. "Sadik."

"Yeah, Sadik." A dark shadow fell across the CIA agent's eyes. "He's been in the US for at least six weeks."

" _Six weeks?!"_ Mac was incredulous. And furious. "And you didn't think to tell me? Every time I called for an update…he was in Spain, Belgium, South America…everywhere but here. How could you lie to me about this?"

"Sarah. _Sarah!"_ Clay reached out and gripped her shoulders. She immediately wrenched away from him. "I didn't know! They fed me a whole line of BS. Sadik's planning something big…they've known that for a while, but…" At that he looked down at his feet, his shoulders slumping. He looked…guilty.

"But what, Clay?" She forced herself to remain calm, or at least give the appearance of it. In reality, she wanted to hit something, someone, try to work off the nervous energy born from fear for her life, for Harm's. Clay was near…the obvious choice.

Clay still didn't look up, and if anything, he sank further into himself. It was Mac's turn to clench her fists around his shoulders. "Dammit, Clay, _what?!"_

"He's after you, Sarah. He's obsessed…he wants—"

"Revenge," interrupted Mac, her voice low and laced with barely suppressed fury.

"No, Mac…he just wants _you."_ Mac's eyes widened at that revelation and her hands loosened from Clay's arms, her mind going a million miles a minute. _Sadik wanted her. For what, if not revenge? Did he want her like Koster had? That couldn't be it. Simple stalking because of a crazed notion that he was in love with her did not fit everything she knew about her tormentor. It had to be more._

Clay had turned from her and was motioning to three darkly clad men coming up the walk. Mac was surprised. Rarely did it seem to her that a CIA agent worked with more than one visible partner. She stepped down to him, reaching out to touch his arm, her touch gentler this time. "How do you know that? How did you find out if they were just feeding you lies?"

"Catherine Gale."

"Harm's wife?" It irked Mac that she felt the sting of jealousy as she said that. It wasn't as if Harm had actually married the other woman.

Clay picked up on Mac's tone and smirked at her. "The same."

"But how did—"

"Sarah, how is not important right now. We need to secure this place and get you to safety. Then we—"

The events of the past hour assaulted her mind and she was once again in the moment. "Clay, he killed Martha—the housekeeper. Left her in the pantry." Clay nodded. He motioned to a stocky blond man with thinning hair. "Mercer, we have a body…pantry."

The other man acknowledged that with a brief nod. He was about to turn away when Mac spoke again.

"Clay…Trish, Frank…Harm's parents…we need to—"

"Already on it. They're in protective custody."

 _Thank god._ "Do they know anything?" Guilt coursed through her. She had brought this on them, just like Martha…like Harm. _Oh my god…_ Harm!

Without waiting for Clay to answer her earlier question, Mac gave voice to her fears about her sailor. "Clay…Harm was supposed to be back from the _Henry_ today. He hasn't answered any of my calls. The admiral was going over to his apartment to check on him, but I haven't heard back yet. I think Sadik has already—" She choked on the words. "He's already ki—hurt him."

Clay put his arm around her and led her to a wooden and wrought iron patio chair. "Sit, Sarah. I'll get someone on it."

Mac nodded, inwardly thinking as Clay pulled out his cell that the agent should have had someone on Harm's six already. Clay finished his call and sat down next to her. "Okay, tell me what's all happened here."

Mac had her head down, fingers massaging her temples. Her head hurt, and she was in the middle of another wave of nausea. She was dimly aware that Clay was speaking to her, but it took all she had to push back the nausea and impending retching. Slowly it passed, and she finally raised her head to face Clay's concerned gaze.

"Sarah, are you alright?"

Mac shrugged. "I've had headaches, nausea, dizziness these last few days, thrown up a few times. It's been getting a little better…"

"Doesn't look like it."

"Well, right now it doesn't feel like it either." She dropped her face into her hands again. _Dammit, she needed to be well!_ At least the fresh air here outside felt good.

Mac sat in silence for another moment, trying to collect herself. She heard one of Clay's team open the front door to enter the house and suddenly she remembered. Ignoring a swirl of dizziness, she looked up in a panic. "Clay…the terrace. He's done something out there. I don't know what, but don't let them go out there."

Thankfully, Clay didn't question her. He stood up and radioed ahead to his man in the house. "We'll check it out," he said to her.

She could feel him watching her once he finished speaking in hushed tones to Agent Mercer. "What, Clay?"

"You've spoken to him, haven't you."

Mac closed her eyes and merely nodded. Just the memory of his voice sent chills up her spine and caused her to break out into a cold sweat.

"What did he say?"

Mac sat up straighter and opened her eyes again. Physically, she was starting feel a little better. It was a bit cool for this time of year in San Diego, but the cooler temperature and light breeze off the water was refreshing. She settled her gaze on Clay. "He admitted to killing Martha and just told me it was time to come home."

The vertical lines on Clay's forehead deepened as his expression turned to one of mild confusion.

"Home?"

"I assumed he meant D.C."

Clay paced in front of her a few times before he turned to face her, hands on his hips. "Well, intel seems to suggest that things are likely to go down there."

Mac raised an eyebrow at him. "Do you trust that, Clay?"

One side of his mouth drew up into a half-smile. "Yes…this time."

"Okay, then. Clay, I need to get back there. Sadik obviously has plans for me there—"

"A good reason to stay as far away from there as possible."

Mac rose out of her chair. "No, Clay. This ends now. One way or another, it stops. It _stops._ _Even if he kills me,_ Mac thought to herself. Outloud, she said, "And I need to get to Harm. He's in danger. I know it." _Maybe even dead. No. I would know if he were dead. I would_ know. Turning away from her dark thoughts, she reached for Clay's hand. "Clay, please. Get me on a plane to Washington."

She could see Clay searching her eyes for something. Finally, he gave a short nod and pulled out his cell again. He was about to dial when Agent Mercer and one of the other men came out of the house. This one was tall and thin with dark, nearly black hair and a neatly trimmed beard. His thick rimmed, brown, rectangular glasses were perched atop his hawk nose. The term "birth control glasses," or BCG's, flitted through her mind, and she had to bite back a giggle. It would have been the giggle of hysteria, anyway.

"What have you got, Dunson?" Clay asked as the agent handed him a piece of paper with some chicken scratch on it. They conversed quietly for a moment, then Clay turned back to Mac. "Hey, Mac?"

"Yeah?"

"Tell me again the symptoms you were having earlier?"

"Um, headache, nausea…dizziness. Some body aches…" She raised her eyebrows in question.

"Take a look at this, Sarah." He handed her the piece of paper. Not much made sense to her other than a couple of letters.

"CO? Carbon monoxide?"

"They measured elevated levels of carbon monoxide in your wing of the house."

"What? Surely the Burnetts have carbon monoxide detectors—"

"And they were clearly disabled."

"You think that's why I've been feeling this way?" The symptoms would certainly fit.

"In all likelihood. We should get you checked out at the hospital."

Mac didn't want any further delays in getting to Washington. "No, Clay, I feel fine now, and it isn't like I felt bad all the time." She honestly did feel much better. The levels of CO in the house couldn't have been all that high. She asked about it and Clay confirmed it. The levels were only around 80 ppm, just enough to cause symptoms and Mac believed the levels had to have been fluctuant. She had another thought:

"Why didn't anyone else have any issues? Frank and Trish never complained."

Clay shrugged. "It's a big house, depends on how the duct work/airflow is set up."

"I suppose." Mac looked down at Harm's watch that still graced her slender wrist. For the most part, her timing had returned to her, unless she was extremely stressed. The current situation certainly qualified as extreme stress, and her sense of foreboding regarding Harm was increasing with each passing second. She looked at the watch again. Admiral Chegwidden should have called her by now. She nervously paced back and forth across the veranda while Clay made several more calls.

A few minutes later, another vehicle lumbered up the long drive. It was unmarked, of course, the windows tinted, making it impossible to see who all was in it. In short order, three men and a female, all darkly clad, exited the SUV, immediately coming around to the back of it. One of them opened the hatch and they all started gathering duffle bags full of equipment while Clay moved forward and filled them in. Mac heard him mention the terrace, so she assumed this was the crew coming to deal with that. Whatever _that_ was. She suspected explosives.

Mac pulled her cellphone out of her pocket. Maybe she'd missed a call from Harm or the admiral. Looking at the screen, her heart sank when she saw no missed calls. Clay finished speaking with the new arrivals and returned to her side. "Any word?" he asked, pulling out his phone and checking it as well.

She shook her head. _Dammit, she should have heard something by now!_ Clay squeezed her shoulder in sympathy and entered a number into his phone. He walked a few steps away from her and soon she heard him speaking in muffled tones.

Mac couldn't take it anymore. She was growing impatient but worried that she hadn't heard from the admiral yet. She was already terrified for Harm, but now she was worried the admiral may have wandered into danger as well. She started to dial…only to jump as the phone rang in her hands. _At last!_ She tried her best to calm her racing heart, took a few cleansing breaths, and answered. It was at that same moment that Clay hung up and slipped his phone into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. She watched his shoulders slump and his head was down as he turned back in her direction. _Oh god, was it Harm?_

Her voiced cracked as she greeted the admiral, "Ma-MacKenzie." From across the country Mac heard the slow exhale of air from the admiral's mouth. Her heart was up in her throat. _Why was no one telling her anything?_

"Colonel?" Admiral Chegwidden's voice was noticeably subdued.

"Yes, admiral?" _Please, please, please don't let this be about Harm. Please…_

The admiral didn't answer right away, and Mac felt the panic spread across her chest, up her arms, and down her legs. "Admiral?" She heard Admiral Chegwidden's intake of air, but just as he started to form a word, Clay looked up and his eyes met hers. They were so full of shell-shocked sympathy, and Mac's legs started to wobble.

"Sarah…" Clay's voice was a ragged whisper.

Tears silently spilled from her eyes and ran down her pale cheeks. _"No…"_ she whimpered, her phone still at her ear. She was dimly aware of the admiral speaking to her, but his voice was overrun by a new roaring in her ears. The phone slipped from her grasp and there was a sharp crack as it hit the ground, while she was only slightly aware that Clay had grabbed her about her shoulders. He was speaking to her but the roaring in her ears was suddenly so loud that her hands rose to cover them. The world around her started to spin and she closed her eyes against it. But that didn't help, and soon the dizzying swirl pulled her down with it, her legs crumpling underneath her.

 _I'm so sorry, Harm._

 _End Chapter 36_


	37. Stay Here

_A/N: A quickie Chapter 37. Hopefully by staying up really late and writing this, I will be able to focus on the tasks I must get done before the end of the weekend…well, that's the goal anyway. Thank you to my readers and reviewers!_

 **Delicate**

 **Chapter 37: Stay Here**

 _1701 Local (PST)_

 _United Flight 2282_

 _Somewhere over Nevada_

Mac leaned her head back against her seat's headrest. She knew she should try to get some sleep; it was going to be a long flight, she had nothing better to do than worry, and time would pass more quickly if she were completely oblivious. Unfortunately, between the pounding headache she had lied to Clay about not having and the utter helplessness and terror she felt for Harm, she knew there was little likelihood that the sandman would find her. She sighed heavily. She felt her seatmate shifting toward her and his hand cover hers.

"He's going to be okay, Sarah." Clay squeezed her hand and started to let go but Mac quickly halted him, clenching his fingers in hers.

"You don't know that." There was no rancor in her voice; to her she sounded dull and lifeless, monotone. The turmoil inside her was only expressed in the desperate way she clung to Clay's hand. He returned her grasp in kind, then opened his mouth to speak.

"No, I suppose not, but I do know Rabb and there is no way he would leave you without fighting with every last breath in him. If anyone can make it through this, it's Harm."

Mac didn't even bother to wipe away the tear that tracked down her face. "Thanks, Clay."

They both sat in silence for a while, Mac's eyes closed and her hand still in Clay's. She had the sense that he wanted to say something more to her as she felt him fidget in the seat next to her. Without opening her eyes, she called him on it. "Spit it out, Clay." His movements stilled, and she felt more than heard his sigh over the hum of the jet engines.

"Sarah, I'm sorry."

"For what, Clay?"

"For dragging you into this. For dragging you down to Paraguay. For nearly getting you killed. For coming between you and Harm. For—"

"Clay, stop it. I went willingly. _You_ nearly got killed protecting me. And as for Harm and me…we messed up plenty of times without your help."

"Probably…but I feel like I should have done more for you two. I should have, I don't know, made you talk to each other. I could see it. I could see that you loved him. Every time you asked about him, I knew it. I should have called you on it then. And I shouldn't have…Sarah, I'm ashamed to admit this, but I wasn't shy about mentioning you whenever I saw Harm. I…I rubbed it in that we were together."

"Clay…"

"That wasn't all. Harm wasn't cut out for the 'brotherhood.' He's such a boy scout. The ambiguities of this job, the questionable morality, even knowing certain actions were and are necessary…eventually it would have destroyed Harm. I knew the missions he went on…and I knew when we offered him a job it would involve more than just being a pilot. I was certainly familiar with Harm's particular skillsets; I knew we could use him in other capacities. And though I also knew what it would do to him, I let it happen. After one of his last missions, the look in his eyes…he was so haunted…I was afraid for him. But I let my jealousy override everything and I…well, let's just say I was _not_ a good friend."

Mac had opened her eyes and had long since pulled her hand away from Clay's. Anger had coursed through her veins, but as she turned toward him, she could see the deep regret in his eyes and could only forgive him. She and Harm had come together despite Clay's actions, her actions, Harm's own actions, and at this point it would do no good to throw anymore blame around. She reached for Clay's hand again and gave him a soft smile. "It's okay, Clay."

The relief was clear in his eyes and in the way his shoulders relaxed. They all had scars from Paraguay, but it was time to let them heal and fade. However, Clay's revelation about the state of Harm's psyche tore at her heart. "Clay?"

"Yeah?"

"What happened…what did Harm do? I know that something horrible went down, but he won't tell me…"

"He really can't, it's classified." He smiled ruefully. "I'm sorry."

"Clay…Harm might…die. He might already be…please, tell me…"

Clay's expression was one of sympathy. "If he does…would it really help you to know what he went through? Do you want that to be part of the memories you have of him?"

Mac couldn't stop the freefall of tears. She shook her head, her control crumbling. "Clay…I can't—I can't—if he—I can't lose him." The dam burst then, and she, not even caring that the whole of first class was witness to her breakdown, found herself pulled into Clay's arms. She cried against his three-piece suit, the inane thought that she was ruining a four-thousand-dollar garment running through her head. Clay didn't seem to mind; he held her tightly and let her sob until she was spent, until she finally gave herself over to the sleep she didn't expect to find.

* * *

 _0148 Local (EST)_

 _United Flight 2282_

 _Descending into Dulles International Airport_

Mac leaned her head against the cool glass of her window. She had slept for a total of three hours and…well, at the moment she didn't know and didn't really give a damn. Her head still hurt, but the pain had at least dulled, and she was grateful for the few hours of peace she had. Clay was dozing beside her, so she remained alone in her thoughts.

They had just started their descent into D.C. and she was that much closer to Harm. That much closer to landing and being able to turn her cellphone back on. That much closer to learning if he was still alive or if he had succumbed to his injuries. Mac still clung to the belief that her body, her soul, would know if he were dead. It kept her sane, though she knew that her feelings on the manner could very well be wishful thinking rather than any psychic connection.

Mac thought with embarrassment about her collapse on the Burnetts' veranda. Clay had managed to catch her and gently lower her down and she came to fairly rapidly. Clay kept her from becoming hysterical and finally managed to break through her panic and grief to tell her that Harm was still alive. The only question was for how long.

Harm had been found in the storage unit where he housed his 'vette. The car had been running, the roll up door to the little garage down, and Harm had been found unconscious, pinned under the heavy shelving unit he put in there. There had been a lot of blood, but the admiral and whomever Clay talked to were unclear as to the type and extent of his injuries. They didn't know how long he'd lain there; it was just dumb luck that Sturgis had decided to take the car for a spin and to give it a good wash and wax as a thank you to Harm for letting him use it a few times during Harm's TAD. Sturgis had shut the car off and dialed 911, then worked desperately to free Harm.

As soon as the ambulance had left to carry Harm to Bethesda, Sturgis had called the admiral who had just departed from Harm's apartment. Chegwidden had utilized the poorly hidden spare key and let himself in when Harm hadn't' answered and found nothing really amiss. Harm's sea bag lay by the door, likely dumped as soon as its owner walked in. An opened but nearly full bottle of beer sat on the island of the kitchen, its contents close to room temperature. A quick survey of the remainder of the loft showed more evidence that its occupant had been their recently but also gave no indication as to where he was.

Admiral Chegwidden had just locked up and was heading back toward the stairs when his phone rang. It was Sturgis.

That had all gone down several hours ago, and as the plane taxied to a stop by the gate, Mac pulled her cellphone from her purse. She turned it on, noticing that the now awake Clay was doing the same. It took some moments for the phone to come alive, and when it did she saw that there were a couple of messages from her commanding officer. With great trepidation she put the phone to her ear to listen to them.

Mac felt Clay's eyes on her as she lowered her phone. A few tears had escaped but there were no hysterics. As of ten minutes ago, Harm was still alive. He was still unconscious, probably in part related to a combination of anesthesia and another concussion, but he was _alive._

She was shaking from relief that her flyboy was still with them, but she knew he wasn't out of the woods yet. He had obvious carbon monoxide poisoning which seemed to be a recurring theme, as well as another concussion and a gunshot wound to his left shoulder. There had also been a laceration along his hairline above his right eye and there were now numerous and varied bruises and abrasions adorning the posterior of his legs and lower back.

Mac appreciated the detailed message the admiral had given her, but very little was going to really register until she actually saw the rise and fall of Harm's chest, the ocean blue of his eyes, and his beautiful mouth curving up into her favorite smile. She felt Clay's hand on her arm.

"You ready? Once we get out of here, there'll be a car waiting to take us to the hospital." Mac nodded and they moved from their seats, heading out of the plane and down the jet bridge to the terminal. Neither of them had any luggage, carryon or otherwise, so there were no delays in getting out of the airport. Very quickly Mac found herself sitting with Clay in the back of a dark luxury sedan headed toward Bethesda. Toward Harm.

* * *

 _0304 Local_

 _Bethesda Naval Hospital_

 _Bethesda, MD_

Mac and Clay rushed down the corridor to Harm's room. Visiting hours had long since ended, but a flash of Clay's badge, Mac's marine presence, and the fortuitous arrival of the admiral after a visit to the coffee machine curbed any argument from the nursing staff. Clay had taken her arm and had led her down the hall while the admiral spoke to the personnel at the nurses' station, their steps quickening the closer they got to his room. Soon they were standing outside the half-open door, and Mac could hear from there the steady beat of Harm's heart monitors. It was at once comforting and terrifying—comforting in that the sound was a reminder that Harm still lived, terrifying because they needed the monitors to tell them that.

Before she could go in, Clay pulled her in for a quick embrace, kissing her cheek. "I'll give you two some time alone. Call me if there's any change, okay?" Mac nodded, pulling him back toward her.

"Thank you, Clay," she whispered in his ear, then stepped away. She hesitated a moment before turning around to cross the threshold of Harm's room, nervous about what she might find beyond it and wishing that their reunion didn't involve only one of them being conscious, the other fighting for his life.

Harm's room was illuminated only by the light from his monitors and a rather dim light above the sink, but as she pulled up a chair next to his bed she could still see how pale he looked, how vulnerable. She reached for his limp hand, held it to her cheek and kissed his palm. The familiar roughness of it brought forth her never-ending supply of tears again and she leaned forward, burying her face into his good shoulder. She brought her other hand to his chest, letting the gentle, even rise and fall of it under her palm comfort her as she cried.

Her tears tapered off after a few minutes and the bizarre thought ran through her mind that with all the sobbing and weeping she had been doing over the last several months, she should probably get herself a saltlick. Shrugging the inane thought away, she lifted her face toward Harm's. He looked almost peaceful, but the deepened vertical lines of his forehead belied that. She ran a finger over them, then rose out of her chair a little to first kiss him there before she softly and oh-so-briefly kissed his lips. She sat back down, holding tight to her sailor's hand, and began her vigil.

 _End Chapter 37_


	38. Long Night

_A/N: So here is Chapter 38. I was going to make it longer, but decided I liked where it ended. And my lunch break is over so now I have to go back to work…_

 _I've probably said similar before, but I can't believe this thing has gone on for 38 chapters with more to come. I've had to make a document with all the chapter titles so I make sure I don't duplicate anything. So far, so good. (I think)._

 **Delicate**

 **Chapter 38: Long Night**

 _0712 Local_

 _Bethesda Naval Hospital_

 _Bethesda, MD_

Mac dozed in fits and starts at Harm's bedside. She was certainly uncomfortable, the chair she was sitting in not meant for slumber, but more than that, she couldn't stop the images and dreams haunting her mind every time she closed her eyes…

 _She was irritated. She had just arrived home after a long flight—actually several long flights, had barely made it through the door to her loft, and now her phone was ringing. Taking a pull from the beer she'd managed to grab before being so rudely interrupted, she answered with a terse "Rabb."_

 _Wait…_ She was MacKenzie. And she certainly didn't drink beer…Mac sank back into her dream.

 _Dammit. Someone had broken in into the storage garage where she housed her 'vette. It had been vandalized, said the manager there, Mr. Ehrlich. She had thought keeping her 'vette in a garage out of sight would have prevented this sort of thing from happening again. Dammit, dammit, dammit._

 _She grabbed her jacket, tossed a longing look at the beer now sweating on the counter, and headed out. It was probably for the best; she had just remembered she was supposed to stop in at JAG and touch base with the admiral. One more thing to do before finally being able to call…_

Mac. She was Mac. She didn't have a storage unit. She didn't drink…

 _She walked up the drive to her unit. Funny, everything looked intact; the roll up door down, no evidence of vandalism from the outside. She slid the key into the lock and the door creaked open. It was dark in there and the deep cloud cover of the day did not do much to illuminate her surroundings._

 _But still…nothing seemed out of place. The 'vette was intact. 'What in hell?' she said out loud…but then the hair on the back of her neck and arms stood up. She whipped around and found herself staring into burning blue eyes._

" _What in hell, indeed, Commander."_

No, no. She was a lieutenant colonel. This was all wrong. She mumbled her protest in her sleep.

" _You…" she breathed. Any further words were cut off by a sudden and excruciating pain in her left arm. The force of whatever had hit her drove her back a few paces into the hood of her car. She fell onto it, knowing that if she didn't move quickly, she'd just be a sitting duck for her tormentor. She rolled across the now bloodied hood, leaving a smear of ominous maroon in contrast to the bright cherry red of her beloved corvette._

 _She hit the concrete floor, instinctively catching herself on her hands. She nearly crumbled to the ground as the impact sent a white-hot pain up her left arm; the bullet she assumed had hit her had likely hit bone, rendering her left arm completely useless. Blood continued to run down the injured limb and she thought with curious detachment that at least the bastard hadn't hit an artery. Still, though, she was weakening, and the sound of her ragged breathing was a roar in her ears._

 _She knew she had just one chance to stop this man that had brought so much evil into their lives. Gathering the little strength she had left, she rushed at him. The impact drove him to the ground with her on top of him. She knew he still had a gun in his right hand but unfortunately there was nothing she would be able to do with her left arm to get it away from him. She shimmied up his body, intent on crushing his larynx with her uninjured arm. The man wheezed and grunted below her. Maybe she managed to break a few of his ribs in the fall…_

 _But wait…that wasn't a wheeze. The man was laughing. The sonofabitch was laughing. He easily pitched her off of him and the brunt of the impact was borne by her shattered arm. She couldn't stop the agonized scream that tore from her throat, or the other scream when the bastard strode around her and kicked her right where the bullet had struck. She automatically curved into herself, biting her lip bloody to keep any more of her weakness from escaping._

 _She then heard the rustling of his clothing and a voice that sounded suspiciously like Harm's shouted in her mind to move! She rolled over with her last remaining bit of strength, feeling a lancinating pain across her brow. She fought to maintain consciousness and once again the reedy sound of the man's laughter filled her ears. She waited for another shot to sound, finally ending her life but it didn't come. Instead, she felt him dig in her pockets and pull out the keys to the 'vette. A few seconds later, she heard the familiar sound of the car's engine turning over._ So, was he planning on running her over? _She didn't have enough strength to move away and she cursed herself for her failure._

 _Sadik was going to win. She heard his footsteps on the concrete and was surprised she was still conscious as his footsteps paused. Suddenly she heard the thud and crash of various objects striking the floor. There was the sound of metal scraping against concrete and more pain as her shelving unit unceremoniously crashed on top of her. The shelves were heavy, and there was no way she'd be able to work her way free._

 _As blood obscured her vision, she heard the slide of the rolling door as it came down and made contact with the concrete._ Dear god, he was going to leave her here to die from CO poisoning if the gunshot wound didn't get her first. _More importantly, he was leaving her to go and kill…Mac._

 _But she was Mac. He'd already killed her…she lay under a mess of metal and debris and the air was rapidly filling with carbon monoxide. No, she wasn't the one lying there. It was Harm._ He _was the one now helpless on the ground, and where was she? Dear god, she had to get to him. Harm couldn't die. No. NO NONONONONONONO! She called out his name._

* * *

 _0716 Local_

 _Bethesda Naval Hospital_

 _Bethesda, MD_

" _Harm!"_ He was in danger. She had to save him. She had to…had to…

But she couldn't. There was a heavy weight on her head holding her down but then she felt gentle fingers glide through her hair. And glide again. A soft, loving voice came with it…

"It's okay, Sarah. It's okay. I'm okay. It's okay."

Mac gave a shuddering breath and forced her eyes open. Her chocolate-brown orbs met ocean-blue depths. _Harm!_

She lifted her head and captured his hand in hers. "Oh, Harm," she sobbed. She shakily stood, ignoring the protesting of her neck and back muscles as she unfolded herself from her chair. Teardrops fell off her cheeks and nose and landed on Harm's as she leaned forward and rained kisses down his forehead to his cheeks until she finally caught his lips. The kiss was tender, and something released in Mac as she felt his answering touch. Finally, she sat back down, still clutching his hand. She brought it to her cheek and his hand immediately shifted in her grip to brush her tears away. The familiar gesture only brought out more tears.

"Oh baby," Harm whispered, his voice roughened from his recent ordeal. "Don't cry, sweetheart, don't cry."

"I can't help it. It's just…it's so good to hear your voice." She gave him a watery smile.

"It's good to hear yours. I missed you, Ninja Girl."

"Not as much as I missed you, Flyboy."

Harm's eyes had filled with tears by now as well. "I doubt that," he choked out, voice breaking.

Mac kissed his knuckles then turned his hand to press her cheek against his palm. "I'm so sorry, Harm."

Harm looked confused. "For what, sweetheart?"

"For—" She gestured to his body with her free hand.

"Sarah, honey, I'm pretty sure you had nothing to do with this."

Mac didn't contradict him, but she didn't agree with him either. She looked deeply into his eyes. "Harm, do you remember what happened?"

The lines in Harm's forehead deepened and his gaze drifted upward. "I remember…getting back to my apartment, getting a beer from the fridge…" Harm thought for a moment. "I got a call…my car had been vandalized…" Harm shook his head. "That's it…until just now."

Mac didn't know whether to worry or be grateful that Harm didn't remember much…she knew deep within her soul that her 'dreams' had been visions of what he had suffered. Unless he remembered on his own, she was going to spare him the gory details. She realized Harm was asking her a question. "Say again, honey?"

"How did…how did I end up here?"

"Sturgis found you in your storage garage…your 'vette was running…you had been shot, you were bleeding, your big shelf had fallen on top of you. Sturgis got you out."

Harm closed his eyes for a moment and she had the impression he was praying. His eyes then opened again and he drew in a shaky breath. "I'll have to thank him."

"Me too."

They were both quiet for a while, Mac reveling in just being close to Harm again. She thought he he had drifted off to sleep again so she decided to get up and walk out the kinks a bit and then perhaps find some food. She wasn't very hungry but the last thing she'd eaten was a pack of pretzels on the plane. She needed water, too; she could feel the slight lightheadedness that came from dehydration.

She was halfway to the door when Harm's voice stopped her. "Mac? You're leaving?" He sounded slightly panicked.

Mac turned back and was at his side in an instant. She ran her hand through his hair then kissed the undamaged portion of his forehead. "Just going to get a bite to eat and something to drink. I'll be right back."

Harm nodded. "That's a good idea. You're still too thin."

Mac tapped his nose with her finger. "Hey!" Her face softened into a smile to let him know she wasn't offended. "I was getting better…"

"How—how are you, Mac?" He reached up and curled his fingers around her arm, his thumb making gentle caressing motions.

"I was getting better." She repeated.

"And now?"

"Harm…he's back."

"Who's back…oh…Sadik."

Mac nodded. "He was there…at your parents' house. He killed Martha, Harm."

Harm's eyes widened in obvious horror then narrowed down with equally obvious confusion.

"My parents? Mac, why? How did you—"

"Harm, I…I've been in San Diego."

"With Mom and Frank?"

"Not at first…just for the last couple of weeks. I was going to tell you but then there was the communications blackout. Before that, I was at the Miramar VOQ."

"I thought you were going to see someone for counseling." Harm still looked confused.

"I did, Harm. The admiral…he recommended her and made arrangements for me to see her."

"Oh…" Harm turned his head away from her, an unreadable expression in his face.

"You're upset with me."

Harm shook his head but didn't say anything.

" _Haaarm…"_

Harm finally turned back to face her. "No…I just wish you would have told me…I could have—"

Mac interrupted him. "No, Harm. That's just it…you would have told your parents and had them rescue me. I hated being alone, but it had to be that way."

"What made you call them?"

Mac was a bit embarrassed and a light blush graced her cheeks. "Um, I had a rough day in therapy and I needed a mom." She wouldn't meet his eyes.

Neither said anything for a moment and Mac continued to avoid looking directly at Harm. Finally, she felt his hand on her face, his thumb brushing over her lips. "Mac…look at me. Please." She slowly brought her eyes to his. "Mac, it's okay to need someone."

"But she's _your_ mom, not—"

"I'm willing to share, sweetheart. And Mom loves you too." He gifted her with a small, sweet smile, which she answered in kind.

"Well, I love her too. And Frank. Harm…they were so good to me. But now this…"

Something in Harm's eyes changed. He was scared. "Mac, my parents. Where are they? Who's protecting them?"

"They're okay, Harm. Clay, uh, Webb has them in protective custody." At that, Harm withdrew his hand away from her, his expression clouding then closing off as he turned his face away from her.

" _Haarm…_ Please don't do that. I know how you feel about him, I understand why you feel that way about him, but he is still my friend. He got your parents to safety." Harm snorted at this. " _Harm!"_ Mac spit out in frustration. "We've been through a lot together, and he got me here to you. He wants Sadik as much as we do and we're going to need his help. So, please. Don't shut me out every time he comes up. I'm not asking you to like him or even be civil to him…just don't turn away from me too!"

Harm stayed silent for a few more beats, then heaved a great sigh. He reached out for her again and she could see the hurt in his eyes when she hesitated before clasping his hand again. "I'm sorry, Ha—" she started to say but he shook his head.

"No, Mac. I'm sorry. It's just…it's going to be hard…after everything…I mean, I could so easily have l-lost y-you…and…" His words choked off at that point and though it wasn't the first time she had seen him cry, it tore at her to see her big, brave flyboy break down. She leaned down into him and buried her face in his neck. He appeared so fragile right now and it was time for her to be the strong one. She soothed away his tears with soft caresses and kisses, holding him to her as best she could as he lay in the hospital bed. Eventually he calmed, giving her a watery smile as she brushed the last bit of tears from his cheeks.

"We're quite a pair, aren't we, Flyboy." She smiled back at him, running her fingers again through his hair.

He chuckled a bit. "Yeah, we sure are, Ninja Girl." His expression turned pensive as he stared deeply into her eyes.

"What?" she asked.

"Mac, Sarah…you said you _were_ getting better…"

"I was. I _am._ The nightmares…the flashbacks…they were, _are,_ so much better. I guess I'm just afraid that with all this…I'll lose what ground I've gained…but Harm, I'm ready to face him. Face Sadik. This is going to stop," she said with grim determination.

Harm's eyes narrowed again at her. His gaze slid away again after a few seconds, but no before Mac saw the worry and fear in his eyes. "Mac," he said quietly. "Why do you have to face him at all?"

She closed her eyes briefly before taking a deep breath and opening them again. She knew the reason…she had known how it would be even as they watched him disappear down a Paraguayan railway.

"Because…I'm the only one who can end this."

 _End Chapter 38_


	39. Currents

_A/N: Welcome to Chapter 39! I finished this while sitting in lectures at a medical conference…don't judge, I tend to have to fight to keep myself awake during these things no matter how interesting the talks are—and they've been quite good. Writing/multitasking has kept me awake and 1) I've been able to pay attention and learn things and 2) I have a new chapter!_

 **Delicate**

 **Chapter 39: Currents**

 _0733 Local_

 _Bethesda Naval Hospital_

 _Bethesda, MD_

" _Maac…"_ Harm said, obviously distressed by her recent declaration. Mac could see he was about to protest; he almost painfully clutched her fingers and the expression lines around his eyes tightened before his mouth opened. The protest died on his lips, however, as a man in scrubs and a white coat knocked on the door.

"Hello, it's Dr. Craig, may I come in?" He didn't wait for them to answer as he stepped up to Harm's bed.

"Welcome back, Commander." Dr. Craig flashed a smile almost at flyboy wattage. He looked to be about Harm's age, was almost as tall, and had a cocky air about him that screamed "pilot" despite the MD on his badge. But, like Harm, there was something inherently likeable in the cockiness, and Mac sensed the man had the skills to back up his attitude. He turned to Mac with a questioning gaze.

"Oh, I'm Lt. Colonel Sarah MacKenzie, Harm's…" What could she say? Girlfriend seemed too juvenile. 'Lover' certainly wasn't appropriate, nor was simply 'best friend'—they were so much more than that now. Paramour? Significant other? Her mouth dropped open, and she hoped desperately that the right word would just pop out. Harm, however, spoke first.

"Fiancée." Mac whipped her head around to him and met his eyes. For the barest of seconds, he looked just as surprised as she was sure she did, but then his eyebrow rose and she could see the question in his stormy eyes. For a moment she forgot about the doctor standing not five feet away and the air stilled around them. Suddenly they were in their own little bubble. _Did he mean—_ she caught the slight nod of his head. She reached for his hand, blinked back a few tears, and nodded in kind. Just like that, the moment was over, and they turned their attention back to the doctor.

Dr. Craig looked back and forth between them and gave them a knowing smile. "Well, congratulations, and it's nice to meet you, Colonel MacKenzie." His attention shifted to his patient. "How are you doing, Commander?"

Harm looked thoughtful for a moment. "Fine, I guess…it hurts a little to breathe, I'm a little hoarse, and," he said, wincing, "my arm is starting to hurt like hell."

Mac glared down at Harm. "Why didn't you say anything? You should have told me!" _Damn stubborn squid!_

He gave her a look of boyish innocence. "Who can feel pain when you're here, baby?"

Mac rolled her eyes, blushing a bit given that this was all witnessed by Harm's doctor. "You'll have to excuse Harm, Doctor…I think the anesthesia is still getting to him." She turned her face so that Dr. Craig couldn't see her and then stuck her tongue out at her new fiancé. Harm smirked at her then focused again on the doctor.

"So, Doc, I'm a little fuzzy on all the details…what all happened yesterday?"

Mac felt her pulse speed up. She knew exactly what had happened yesterday, or at least knew the events that had brought him here.

Dr. Craig pulled up a chair and sat down opposite where Mac was standing. "Well, when they brought you in, they were aware you had had significant carbon monoxide exposure. You were unconscious and your carboxyhemoglobin level was at 31%." He paused a bit, giving them both an opportunity to ask questions. Mac and Harm shared a glance. Both were familiar with carbon monoxide poisoning; their mutual experience regarding the case of Theresa Coulter's mother had been quite educational. The two indicated for the doctor to continue. "The decision was made to stabilize your arm and send you up for treatment in the hyperbaric oxygen chamber. You actually came to while you were in there—I heard you told everyone you were Michael Jackson." Dr. Craig chuckled.

Mac looked down at her flyboy, noting he was clearly at least a little embarrassed. "I don't remember any of that," he said.

"Not surprising, Commander," the doctor continued. "After you were stable from a CO standpoint, we took you back to fix your arm. The bullet hit you in the mid-upper portion of your humerus—your upper arm bone—nearly shattering it. We had to put a plate in once we removed the bullet. Despite how rough it looked on X-ray, these sorts of things usually heal fairly well. That's my part in all of this—I'm the orthopedic surgeon on your case. Your medical doctor, Dr. Stoddard, will be around later. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to check the wound before I leave you two alone."

Dr. Craig stood up and started to gently unwrap Harm's left arm. Mac could tell Harm was doing his best to hide it, but to her it was obvious the movement hurt him. Unwillingly, her mind went to the searing pain she had endured during her vision as the bullet struck her, no, _Harm's_ body. It made her a little dizzy and she had to catch her balance on a bedrail. Harm noticed, of course, and to her chagrin, she found him ignoring his own pain to focus on hers. "Mac?" he whispered, the concern evident in his voice. She shook her head at him, trying her best to look reassuring.

A few seconds later, Dr. Craig removed the final dressing. The wound actually looked fairly innocent, the incision over the anterior arm was clean and closed with evenly placed staples. One would be hard-pressed to even tell Harm's wound was the result of a gunshot. But Mac knew, and once again she was assailed with the visions of what had occurred in Harm's garage. Her breath quickened, and she knew she had to leave now or risk embarrassing herself.

She stepped away from the bed. "Um, I'm going to…I'll be back…" Mac turned on her heel, ignoring Harm's concerned, "Sarah?" as she slipped out the door. With quick steps she took herself to the end of the hall and fell into a hard, vinyl-upholstered chair, immediately burying her face in her hands. _Get a hold of yourself, marine!"_ she admonished herself.

Logically she knew she should cut herself some slack; this was Harm, after all. Of course it would be hard to see him like this. And, though her visions defied natural law, they had been consistently accurate enough for her to believe in them. Her vision of Harm's attempted murder was nothing if not disturbing. How could it not affect her? She took several deep breaths, wanting to return to Harm's side as soon as possible. Hopefully he wouldn't be as disgusted by her weakness as she was.

Her time sense once again MIA, she wasn't sure how many minutes she sat in the chair that had likely been in this same spot back when she was merely a glimmer in Joe MacKenzie's eye. Dr. Craig was sure to have finished with Harm and she didn't want him to be alone for long.

Mac ran her hand across her eyes and rubbed her temples. She had a dull headache and was reminded of how tired she was and of how long it had been since she had eaten anything. She should probably use this opportunity to go find herself a snack, but just sitting in one spot had its appeal as well. She sighed. _Get off your butt, MacKenzie!_

She was just about to do just that when she heard a deep voice calling her name.

"Mac?" She looked up to see Commander Sturgis Turner standing before her. "Harm told me—" His voice cut off in a grunt as Mac stood and flung herself into the stolid commander's arms. He caught her as she wrapped her arms tightly around him.

"Thank you thank you thank you," she said into Sturgis's chest, not caring that he was likely mortified. She was just so grateful that Sturgis had found Harm when he did. She was surprised when he returned her embrace firmly.

As they broke apart, she caught Sturgis studying her. "What?" she asked.

"How have you been, Mac?"

She gave a short bark of laughter. "I've been better, Sturgis."

He nodded in acknowledgement. "And Harm—"

"He's going to be okay, thanks to you." _As long as Sadik doesn't try again,_ she thought grimly. _And he won't…I'll kill him first._ "Have you seen him yet?"

Sturgis nodded. "He asked me to find you, said you weren't far."

 _Ah, yes. Harm 'always' knew where she was._ "Well, you found me." She smiled. "We should get back to him." She started to move past Sturgis, but he caught her arm.

"No, I promised him I would make you eat something. He said, and I quote, 'I don't want to see either of you until Mac eats more than a bag of circus peanuts and a Pop-tart.'"

Mac gave a sincere smile and a little laugh at that. "Hey, I only ever did that once!"

Sturgis raised an eyebrow.

"Well, that case at Parris Island was the only time I ate them both together."

Sturgis rolled his eyes. "Right, Mac. Come on. They likely have a burger here with your name on it. It's probably the same consistency as a Pop-tart, so it'll be the best of both worlds." He offered her his arm and together they headed to the cafeteria.

* * *

 _1010 Local_

 _Bethesda Naval Hospital_

 _Bethesda, MD_

"So, what happened?"

Mac had not been looking forward to this question though she knew it would come as soon as Sturgis left. She shrugged.

" _Maaac…"_

"I guess I'm just a little squeamish."

"You. Squeamish." Harm burst out laughing and Mac thought it served him right when the motion caused him to wince a bit. Of course, she immediately felt guilty.

"It's different when it's your—"

"Fiancé?"

Mac took his hand and nodded, noticing that Harm suddenly looked pensive. "Harm?"

"I'm sorry, Mac…no, no I meant it…but I should have asked you properly…" He wrinkled up his forehead, his eyebrows drawing together. "Or, I guess I should have actually _asked_ you. Oh my god, I'm as bad as Bugme, er, Brumby. Mac, I'm sorry. I was disrespectful. I put you on the spot. I railroaded you—"

"Harm! _Harm!_ " She tried to get his attention as he rambled on, only breaking through when she covered his mouth with her fingers. She held them there for a moment until she was satisfied she had his attention. "Are you finished?"

He nodded and she slowly moved her hand away. "Harm, you are nothing like Mic. _We_ are nothing like Mic and me. I want this. I want you." Tears filled her eyes. _"Dammit!_ " she said in frustration as she swiped at her eyes. "I have to stop crying all over you."

"Mac, I don't mind you crying to me…but I would like you to stop crying _because_ of me."

She gave him an impish smile through her tears. "Well that's on you, Flyboy." She leaned over to kiss him but that got interrupted by a colossal yawn. She giggled softly when it finally ended. "Sorry, hon." He gave her a brief smile but then he had his concerned look back on his face.

"Sarah, you're tired. You should go home, get some sleep." Mac shook her head.

"I'm not leaving you," she said with finality and was thankful that Harm knew her well enough to not argue about this, although she could tell he wanted to. "Harm, what are you doing?"

Harm had started to shift over closer to the left side of his bed, wincing a little with each move. "Get in here." He patted the new empty space he had created.

"Harm…I don't think your nurses and doctors would appreciate that."

"Tough. You need sleep, I need another nap, and frankly, my dear, I haven't slept for shit since you left. I _miss_ you. Now, get in."

She was about to refuse again, but then decided that she needed to be close to him as much as he needed to be close to her. Plus, she couldn't resist his sad, pouty puppy-dog look. She kicked off her shoes, climbed in as carefully as she could, and discovered again her favorite spot in the world: next to Harm, her head on his shoulder, hand over his heart. He pulled her close to him and her leg naturally went over his. His breath tickled her hair as he kissed the crown of her head and whispered softly to her. "Mac, I'm going to ask you. The right way. You deserve the whole down on one knee, romantic proposal." Mac smiled and placed a kiss on his chest. She snuggled into him and it wasn't long before she fell asleep.

* * *

 _2014 Local_

 _Bethesda Naval Hospital_

 _Bethesda, MD_

"Ma'am, visiting hours are over. You need to leave." Mac, eyes still closed, turned groggily toward the annoying voice that disturbed her. "What?" Dammit, she had slept for two hours and thirty-one minutes and she wanted more. This was despite having had a long nap with Harm in the morning, some light dozing after a walk and lunch with Harm, and now this snooze after what this hospital thought passed for supper. She hadn't slept so well in weeks. It suddenly occurred to her that her time sense had returned to her. It made her smile, but then the irritating voice was back in her ear. "Ma'am, get up."

Mac finally woke up completely. Harm was stirring as well, instinctively pulling her back down as she tried to sit up.

"Ma'am!" the woman nearly shouted.

At that, Harm's eyes flew open and he immediately hit the button on the bed rail to raise them up. Before them stood a very young-looking nurse with sandy blond hair and pale blue eyes. She seemed familiar to Mac, although she was certain she had never met this woman before. She felt Harm tense beside her.

"Can I help you, _Ensign_?" Harm asked, emphasizing her rank. Mac expected her to wilt under Harm's piercing stare.

Instead the woman drew herself up, gave him a most insolent gaze, and said, "Visiting hours are over. Your _friend,_ " her voice dripped with sarcasm, "needs to leave."

Harm burst out laughing, and that _did_ fluster the young nurse. "My _fiancée_ is going to stay right here."

"She can't—"

"She is a Lt. Colonel in the United States Marine Corps, my fiancée, and she _is_ staying. Who's your CO, Ensign Blake?"

Ensign Blake glared at Harm for a few more seconds. "You'll find out, sir." She turned on her heel and marched out of the room. Harm snorted.

"What a charmer."

Mac slapped his chest lightly. "Harm, she was just trying to do her job and follow orders." She grinned. "I mean, she was kind of…uptight... but…"

"Uptight, that's a good word for it. You know, she kinda reminds me of someone…"

"Me too." They looked at each other, Mac searching her brain for a moment. Her face lit up and she noticed Harm's did too.

"Loren Singer!" they said at the same time. They chuckled a bit before Mac became thoughtful.

"You know, I think I liked Loren better," she said, idly running her hand up and down Harm's chest.

"Yeah." Mac noticed Harm had grown serious as he lowered the bed back down. Mac lifted herself up, supporting her weight on her arm.

"She didn't deserve what happened to her."

"No, she didn't," he answered quietly. They were quiet for a moment.

"Harm?" Mac asked, not liking his silence and troubled countenance.

Harm sighed. "Our problems started with the Singer situation."

"Harm…we talked about that. We both made mistakes. And it's not like we didn't have a few issues before that."

Harm acknowledged that with a nod, but Mac could tell he was still brooding.

"Harm—"

He let out a breath. "I know, Mac. But if that whole thing hadn't happened…if I hadn't been so secretive, if I had let you in…you wouldn't have taken that assignment with Webb."

"You don't know that," she soothed, although she'd often wondered if things had happened differently during that time, or if Ted Lindsey hadn't been such a vindictive, murdering bastard, would she have been so willing to go to Paraguay?

"You wanted to get away from me." Harm's expression was one of sadness.

Mac shook her head adamantly. "No, despite all the times I've run from you, I've never really wanted to be away from you." He pulled her closer but didn't say anything more for a long while. Mac started to feel the fatigue creeping up on her again, making her eyelids heavy. She wondered sleepily if her own carbon monoxide exposure was still dragging her down. Of course, it could very well be the fact that she had been just a tad bit stressed lately. Her eyes had started to flutter shut but then she heard Harm's whisper in her ear.

"Sarah, I don't want you to fight Sadik."

She rose up on her elbow again. "I don't think I'll have a choice."

"But why?"

Mac knew it would upset him if she told him that she just _knew_ that it had to be that way. He trusted her visions, had been saved from a watery grave once because of them, but he wouldn't accept that her premonitions pointed to her facing Sadik alone. So, she said nothing.

"Sarah…"

The pain and fear in his voice nearly broke her. She gathered him close, mindful of his injured arm, and buried her face in the opposite shoulder. "I'm sorry, Harm."

" _No,_ Sarah."

"Harm, whatever we do, whatever Clay does…no matter what, _I'm_ the one he wants. _I'm_ the one who has to stop it. I can run, I can leave D.C., the US…but he'll find me. He will hurt the people I love along the way. He will murder more innocents. He was this close to killing you yesterday. Harm, I know as sure as I know I love you that I'll be the one to stop him, even if—" Her voice broke. "Even if I die doing it." As soon as the words left her mouth, she felt Harm's sharp intake of breath and his shuddering exhalation under her.

"D-don't say that, Mac." She could feel him shaking and knew he was crying. It shattered her soul, but, like she had told him, she didn't have a choice. She cried along with him.

Eventually, Harm fell asleep. She could tell he was sleeping heavily; he had to be exhausted by his recent ordeal. She eased herself out of his bed, stopping to place tender kisses on his lips and forehead, then picked up her jacket and stepped out into the hall. She pulled her cellphone from the jacket's inside pocket, noting that she had a couple of missed calls from Clay. Mac made to call him back, but jumped when the phone started to vibrate in her hand. The number on the screen was one she didn't recognize, and she immediately felt a deep sense of foreboding. She hit the answer button.

"MacKenzie."

"Hello, Sarah."

"Hello…Sadik."

 _End Chapter 39_


	40. When You Sleep

_A/N: Woo-hoo! The big 4-0! You all will have to excuse me, my CIA spy games skills are questionable at best…but I tried._ _So, I realized as I wrote this that in order to be somewhat accurate (not sure if everything/metro stops were there in 2004), I had to look up a fair amount of government facilities, etc…probably doesn't look that great on a search history. It's okay, Big Brother…just writing fan fic…I sort of borrowed a few things from the episode "Persian Gulf," just to give me a few things to go on._

 **Delicate**

 **Chapter 40: When You Sleep**

 _2101 Local_

 _Bethesda Naval Hospital_

 _Bethesda, MD_

" _It is good to speak with you again, Sarah."_ The soft timbre of Sadik's voice made Mac's skin crawl. She moved farther down the hall from Harm's room, her knuckles whitening as her grip on her phone tightened.

"Likewise, Sadik."

" _Why Sarah, I am flattered."_

Mac's stomach lurched. It sickened her that the man actually did sound pleased. "Don't be. We just have a lot to discuss, and the sooner we can get through that, the sooner we can get to killing each other."

His reedy chuckle filled her ears and a cold fury wrapped around her heart. _"My dear Sarah, I have no wish to hurt you."_

"You could have fooled me. I haven't forgotten being strapped to that table; you were perfectly happy to have me tortured and killed then."

" _Although you may not believe me, I do regret what happened in the Chaco Boreal."_

Mac snorted, casting a furtive glance down the hall, praying Harm wouldn't awaken.

" _I have had time to get to know you since then, Sarah. I know we share the same heritage. We are both proud, resilient people. You fascinate me. You are quite beautiful, and you possess an uncommon strength for a woman, yet you have chosen a life of weakness, of sin."_

"I hardly think choosing the life of a marine is a sign of weakness."

" _It is a weakness if it takes you away from your true purpose. It is a weakness if it leads you to sin."_

"And I suppose you know what my true purpose is," Mac said, her words dripping with sarcasm. She was growing tired of his little game. It was beyond time to end this.

" _Your true purpose is the same as every woman's—"_

"To live in the shadow of a man? To be silent, to cover myself? Is that my purpose? Is that how I should use my strength?" she interrupted. _Arrogant bastard._

" _If you lived the life of a proper woman, your strength would only grow. Instead, you have—"_

 _Enough of this._ "Sadik, though I'm terribly flattered you have taken such an interest in my soul, I'm sure you have more in mind for me. What do you want?"

" _My dear Sarah, there are many things I want… but for now, I want you to turn around."_

Mac's heart leapt in her throat and the hairs stood up on the back of her neck. Slowly she turned back toward Harm's room. Her eyes darted back and forth, looking for anyone that could be Sadik. The only people in the hall were an orderly and two nurses, one of whom was the charming Ensign Blake. She scanned the area but saw no one else. _Where could he…oh my god, Harm!_

Mac took off at a dead run, ignoring the glare of Ensign Blake. She forgot the phone in her hand for a moment as she stepped into the dimly lit hospital room. All was quiet. Harm lay sleeping, and as she approached the bed she nearly cried in relief when she caught the motion of his chest as he breathed. She checked the bathroom, looked in every corner, even under the bed. _Nothing._ The phone vibrated once again in her hand.

"Yes?"

" _Sarah, your Commander Rabb is fine. Come back out into the hall."_

"Why? Give you a better shot?"

" _Sarah, how many times must I tell you that I do not want to harm you? Please, do as I ask. So much depends on you…"_

"Does it…and if I don't?"

" _Many will die, Sarah. Many…you have the power to stop it. Come."_

"I suspect you will kill whomever you want, whenever you want, regardless of what I do," she said, moving toward the door. She poked her head out and looked up and down the hall. There was no one… _wait._ Standing by the door to the stairs was a man with sickly pale skin and blond, no, _yellow_ hair, phone held to his ear. His gaze locked onto hers and the slight upturn of his lip told her everything else she needed to know. She watched as he turned and disappeared into the stairwell.

"Well, Sadik, that's certainly a different look for you," she said, stepping fully into the hall. "Now that I've seen you, how do you know I won't alert security or take you out right here?"

That oily laugh sounded again in her ear. _"You won't. You want, no,_ need _to know why I'm here. And you are just as intrigued by me as I am by you."_

"I thought we'd already established why you're here. So I can kill you." She started walking toward the stairs.

" _Oh, Sarah. You are a spirited woman. I will enjoy teaching you proper respect."_

"I doubt that."

Sadik chuckled again. _"Sarah, as pleasant as our conversation has been, we really need to be going. I do have a few instructions for you, if you would please listen carefully."_

Mac had been just about to push open the stairwell door but paused at his words. "What makes you think I will go anywhere with you?"

" _So defiant, Sarah. You will go because you want to, and if that is not enough, you will go to protect all you love. Your commander, his parents…do not think I can't still reach them. Your former lover, Mr. Webb."_ There was obvious disgust in his tone. _"Your friends, the Roberts…I understand you are the godmother to their children. Their older boy…what is his name? Ah, Little AJ. He is truly a delightful child. So friendly, so innocent. Pity he will lose that innocence and become just another degenerate American. Yes, he was a delight to meet. Perhaps, though, he should be more careful around strangers…"_

Rage beyond anything she had felt since Sadik had cursed her life welled up in Mac. "You sick sonofabitch, you touch one hair on his head and what you did to Clayton Webb will seem like rug burn when I get through with you. You will feel pain beyond anything your victims have felt, you bastard! I will make you scream and cry and wet yourself until you beg me to end it and then I will do it all over again. I won't kill you until I'm good and satisfied that you have felt a thousand times more pain than Jesus at the crucifixion. Do you hear me, you fucking bastard? Do you? I. Will. _KILL_. You." Her breath now came out in ragged gasps.

Sadik's voice was sharp in her ear. _"Sarah, your behavior and your language brands you a whore. You_ will _do as I say, or your friends_ will _die. And you are not the only one who prefers slow, painful deaths…I wonder how you would feel if I turned my skills on Commander Rabb? He is obviously very resilient. He would likely last a long time, longer than Agent Webb would have. Webb would surely have succumbed if you hadn't taken his place. I suspect Rabb would last much, much longer. Long enough for him to curse your name and die with his hatred for you on his lips. And after that, I will turn my attention to AJ Roberts. He won't last as long, but it will still be ever so satisfying when I make his mother watch as well. Now, Sarah, will you silence yourself and listen to me? We have so little time…"_

It took nearly super human strength to battle down her fury and stop any tears from escaping. This man was the devil himself. "Fine, Sadik. We'll do it your way."

" _I am so glad you have accepted how things must be. I knew you could be taught. Now, obviously you must be alone. I trust you can accomplish that, so first, you will head out the main doors and board the Metro to Metro Center. There, you will pick up the blue line and take it to the Foggy Bottom stop. You will exit the train and walk north two blocks where a cab will be waiting to take you to the intersection of Wisconsin Avenue and M Street in Georgetown. Then, you will walk to Martin's Tavern and seat yourself at the bar. Order yourself the drink of your choice…I assume you will choose your usual tonic with a twist of lime. Your history of alcoholism is lamentable, but I choose to focus on your success at overcoming it. Of course, there was that little slip when another of your regrettable dalliances expired, but even Allah forgives, Sarah."_

That familiar taste of bile rose up in her throat at Sadik's play on the words Coster had painted on her bedroom wall six years earlier. Choking it back, she said only, "Anything else, Sadik?"

" _No, just wait there and we will be together soon."_

"I can't wait," she said with biting sarcasm.

" _Neither can I, Sarah, neither can I."_ The call abruptly ended, and Mac drew her phone from her face, staring down at the blank screen. She turned it over, her thumb running over the detachable battery cover. Hopefully, the location tracker Clay had placed in there would work. If not, or if she was forced to dispose of it, she did have a back-up. She lightly ran her fingertips over the underside of her left breast. Harm's watch rested inside her bra, the bra's light padding masking the watch's contours. Behind the back cover of the watch, nestled near the battery, was an impossibly tiny tracking device. It didn't quite have the range that the one in her cell did, but god willing, it would allow Clay and Deputy Director Kershaw to keep tabs on her.

Mac zipped up her jacket, secured her phone, and made her way to Harm's room. She knew she should just walk on by, but she had to see him one more time. She needed to see that he was still alright, and she needed, and this broke her heart, to say goodbye. She would do everything in her power to return to him, but the chances that she'd survive her next encounter with Sadik Fahd were questionable at best, even with the CIA-provided trackers. _As long as I take him out with me..._

Mac took a moment to stand at the foot of Harm's bed, taking strength once again from the rise and fall of his chest. She was just about to turn away when he started to stir, his hand reaching out toward her. She rushed to his side, taking his hand in hers, using her other hand to gently stroke his forehead. "It's okay, Harm, you're okay. I'm here." Her words brought forth a well of grief. She wouldn't be here for long.

Harm's eyes fluttered open, but his slightly unfocused gaze assured her he was not truly awake. She soothingly ran her fingertips over the lines in his forehead and down his cheek. He nuzzled into her hand, more like a little boy than a lover. "I love you," he mumbled, and his eyes drifted shut. Taking a risk, she leaned down and captured his lips with hers, trying desperately not to make this seem as if she were kissing him for the last time. Rising back up, she kissed her fingertips and pressed them to his lips.

"I love you, too," she whispered, then turned and walked out the door, never looking back.

 _End Chapter 40_


	41. A View

_A/N: Well, here is Chapter 41. I am sad to report that there are at most 3 chapters left in this thing. I am at once rather excited about that and rather sad…but then again…it's getting harder and harder to find chapter titles, so…I'd better quit soon. BTW, my Sadik here is a bit more amorous and less asexual than the original. He's still a slimeball, though._

 **Delicate**

 **Chapter 41: A View**

 _2200 Local_

 _Martin's Tavern_

 _Georgetown_

Mac slid onto a barstool at the end of the bar closest to the door. The bartender took her order, a Coke; she refused to order the tonic with a twist that Sadik had suggested. After that small rebellion, she scanned her surroundings, seeing no one that resembled the now blond Sadik Fahd. Five, then ten minutes passed, and Mac grew impatient. _Let's get this show on the road._

It had not taken her long to get here, the train pulling up to the Bethesda stop seconds after she made her way outside. The car she was riding in was fairly empty and she was grateful for the relative quiet. As they pulled into Metro Station, Mac's cell rang. _The admiral._ Mac stared at his name on the caller ID, wanting so much to answer it, but knowing to do so would be a costly error. She did her best to ignore it, letting out her breath as the call went to voicemail. Thirty seconds later, the message icon lit up on the screen. Mac ignored that too as she exited the car, looking for the signs that would direct her to the outbound blue line.

The phone rang again, and this time Mac saw the now familiar number of Sadik. She thumbed the answer button then brought the phone to her ear. "I'm at Metro Center now," she said in a clipped tone, walking briskly toward the platform where her train would be arriving.

" _Excellent, Sarah—"_

"You know, I would prefer it if you would call me 'Colonel MacKenzie.'" she interrupted, unable to resist baiting him a bit.

" _Sarah, I will not address you as that…it only speaks to a life of corruption. It is time for you to turn to the true way. The way of your grandmother. Fatemah taught you the Koran, she taught you Farsi…what would she think of you now?"_

"My grandmother would be proud. You wouldn't have liked her. She refused to wear the _abaya_. She went about with her head uncovered, and she would have been overjoyed to see an Iranian woman accept the Nobel Peace Prize… _without_ the _hijab."_

" _An atrocity."_

"The world is moving on without you, Sadik. Now, the train to Foggy Bottom will be here in about thirty seconds. Did you have something you needed?"

Sadik chuckled, a sound that Mac found nauseating, increasingly so, every time she heard it. _"Yes, of course, Sarah. Your phone. Dispose of it in the nearest garbage receptacle. You will no longer need it."_

 _Well, so much for that._ "Fine. Now, the train is almost here. Let me get on with it."

" _Indeed. Goodbye, Sarah. We will be together soon."_ The call disconnected, and Mac glanced around, looking for a trash bin. She noted one about five feet away, next to a stone column, and made to toss the phone in. Once again it rang, and this time the generic number that showed whenever a call was made from Bethesda flashed across the screen. Her stomach dropped to her feet. _Harm._ Oh, she would give anything to answer him. Her eyes teared up, but with Herculean effort, she forced herself to toss the phone, call unanswered, into the trash. She swiped at her cheek, determined not to show any weakness as she approached her destiny. She stoically boarded the train, sparing a glance to the bin where her phone no doubt was ringing again, a panicked Harm on the other end. _Please forgive me, Harm._

* * *

 _2212 Local_

 _Martin's Tavern_

 _Georgetown_

Mac took a sip of her cola, her stomach turning as the dark liquid hit her tongue. _Should have gone with the ginger ale,_ she thought vaguely to herself, turning in her seat and scanning the room once again. A flash of movement at her side brought her back around, and suddenly she was faced with other-worldly blue eyes. They were framed with pale, bleached-out lashes, and they gazed at her with a knowing arrogance. _Sadik._

Sadik's thin lips stretched into a feral smile and Mac marveled that the heavy makeup he had used to disguise himself didn't crack into a thousand little pieces. "Hello, Sarah. At last we meet again." His eyes raked over her body with something like desire and disgust flashing through them. She wasn't sure if the disgust was directed at her or at himself for having such sinful urges. His eyes met hers again, and then he looked pointedly down to the coat draped over his right arm. She could see the muzzle of a gun peeking out, a sliver of dark gray metal next to the taupe of his jacket. She raised an eyebrow at him as he shifted to completely cover the gun.

"Is that really necessary?" she asked, sliding off of her stool to directly face him.

"Sarah, you have always been somewhat…unpredictable. I felt it prudent to take a few precautions."

Her lips twisted up into a grim smile. "Probably a wise decision. What now, Sadik?"

His smile turned indulgent and he held out his arm to her. "Walk with me, Sarah." She slid her hand into the crook of his arm, her skin crawling at the touch. She fought the urge to vomit as she let him silently escort her from the bar.

They stepped out into the cool night air and they started heading south down Wisconsin Ave. The sidewalk had started to fill with young men and women, college-aged by the look of them, out to have a night of entertainment before having to return to the reality of their studies. To Mac, they looked innocent and full of life; a look at the expression on Sadik's face told her he was thinking something much different.

"They're young. They're alive. Let them have their fun," she admonished him, not caring if he got offended.

"Their bodies are alive, but their souls are dead. Look at them…they worship at the altar of depravity. The women…offering themselves up to the men. They are no better than whores."

"They are enjoying their youth. Surely you remember when you were young and just as innocent."

Sadik's arm shifted, his elbow joint crushing her hand as he jerked her closer to his side. _"No one_ in America is innocent," he hissed in her ear.

Mac looked at him incredulously. "And you are? You use stolen diamonds to buy weapons. You torture and murder innocents, yes, _innocents!_ And you claim to be oh so virtuous…who are you to judge us?"

"Allah judges you. Allah judges them." He spoke with the arrogant conviction of the self-righteous. They passed by several more clubs and stores as they walked. Sadik halted their steps in front of a lingerie store. He motioned to the scantily clad mannequins posed in the window. "When you look at this, what do you see?"

Mac stared up at the window display for a moment, then shook her head. "Not what you see, apparently."

Sadik started walking again and she fell into step beside him. "Your society, your women, lack virtue. That," Sadik waved an arm behind him, "is what passes for respectable attire here. It is a disgrace. An abomination."

Mac snorted. "Well, to be fair, Sadik, that 'attire' is generally worn _under_ clothing."

"It does not matter. Your women wear not much else over such things. Much like that window display, they shamefully sell themselves. A Muslim woman would be disgusted by their behavior. _You_ should be disgusted by their behavior." He stopped again for a moment, looking over at her with an unreadable expression. "I think you _are_ disgusted. You know it goes against your heritage. You know this is not want your grandmother would have wanted for you."

"How many times must I tell you, Sadik? My grandmother was not devout. Yes, she taught me the Koran, she taught me her language, but she did not cover herself. She had a job. She was my grandfather's equal in everything. She would not have fit your definition of a 'proper' woman."

"But she still cared enough to teach you about where you came from." He spoke with superior certainty.

"I was born _here._ I come from _America._ I was raised _Catholic." Arrogant bastard._

Sadik merely chuckled at that. "Sarah, soon you will not be able to ignore your true self. I will see to that."

 _Fat chance._

Mac and Sadik continued on, and soon the their path took them opposite a popular nightclub. People were milling about on the sidewalk in front of it, and she could feel the pounding beat from the music inside. It was not a place in which she would typically find herself; it just wasn't her thing, but Sadik was sure to be full of moral outrage.

"Look at them," he commanded her. "They drink. They fornicate. They live a degenerate life." He looked at her as if he expected her to agree with him. She glared back at him defiantly.

"I don't see any fornication going on at the moment. Surely you give us Americans credit for generally not engaging in public sex."

The look of disgust veiling desire was back in Sadik's eyes. "Oh, Sarah. They may as well be. They cannot be saved…but be thankful I am taking you away from that."

Mac merely rolled her eyes. The man was unhinged. He rambled on for a bit more, Mac ignoring most of it until she caught a change in his tone. She listened carefully as he muttered under his breath, "Soon they will feel the wrath of Allah."

 _What in heaven's name did he mean by that?_

* * *

 _2234 Local_

 _Wisconsin Ave_

 _Georgetown_

Mac had been about to ask him to clarify that little comment when they reached the end of the block. Sadik raised his arm and a taxi cab instantly appeared on the curb next to them. It was not the same driver that had escorted her to Wisconsin Ave, but a quick look at the car itself revealed it was the same vehicle. Mac had the sinking suspicion her previous driver had met with an untimely fate, and this current one would likely be following in kind.

Sadik opened the rear door and motioned her in. He followed behind her, handing the driver a slip of paper with an address on it. The driver nodded and soon they were on there way. Sadik looked over at Mac. "Sarah, please put on your seatbelt. I do worry about your safety." Mac thought about refusing, but then decided that if they were so unfortunate as to get in an accident, she would prefer not to be killed in that way. With _him._

In under ten minutes they arrived at their destination. Mac, having kept her eye on the man beside her, was surprised to see they had pulled up to her apartment building. Another knowing smile appeared on Sadik's face at the question in her eyes. "It is time you were home, Sarah."

* * *

 _2244 Local_

 _Mac's Apartment_

 _Georgetown_

Sadik unlocked Mac's door and motioned her in. The room was warm; the fire was going and a few of her lamps cast golden light over the furnishings. The scent of fresh bread and something spicier filled the apartment and Persian music played softly on the stereo. He had apparently, to Mac's vexation, already violated her home. Sadik locked the door again behind them and waved an arm around the apartment. "You do have a lovely home, Sarah. I took the liberty of having a small meal prepared. I would imagine that you have not been taking care of yourself since your arrival here. We will eat, and then we will talk."

They walked to the kitchen together and Sadik stepped over to the stove where a pot rested, the burner barely on. He lifted the lid and steam rose up from the soup inside. "It is _Eshkeneh._ I hope you will enjoy it. There is bread warming in the oven, and while you get our supper dished up, you may make some tea."

 _How generous of you, Sadik._ Mac started to slip off her coat but Sadik stopped her. "Oh, but first things first. Your purse, Sarah."

Mac shrugged her coat back on and handed over her handbag. Sadik reached inside, pulling out her small 9mm pistol. She shrugged. "As if you expected I only had tampons in there." His lips pulled up into a sneer in revulsion at her mention of the feminine products while he slid her gun into an inside pocket in his suit jacket.

"The meal, Sarah. If you excuse me, I must make sure our driver has joined his brother." He pulled out his phone and stepped into the living room.

 _Hmmm, 'joined his brother'…a nice euphemism for 'double homicide,'_ Mac thought to herself. She pulled a serving tray from on top of her refrigerator and once again slid her coat from her arms. Pulling a slim pen from a side pocket, she depressed its push button and hooked it to the center panel of her bra. There were certainly advantages to being rather large-breasted. She prayed she had not activated the listening device too soon; its battery life was pretty poor by CIA standards. Unfortunately, it was the best Clay could do on short notice.

Mac filled a kettle with water and set it on the stove to boil, then turned off the other burner and lifted the lid off the _Eshkeneh._ It smelled just as she remembered it; her grandmother often made the sweet and savory soup for her after school. Those two years that her grandmother Fatemeh had lived near her before she died were probably the best two years of her childhood, if you didn't count the early years that she couldn't remember. She would have liked to forget a lot about her childhood, not just the time before she turned three or so.

She prepared the tea as she dished up their soup and sliced the bread. Sharing a meal with a terrorist, particularly this terrorist, repulsed her, but perhaps the warm food would loosen his lips. Or, maybe he poisoned it all and this was going to be a murder-suicide. _No_ , she thought, he was too arrogant to deprive the world of his unique vision. She took a deep breath and carried the tray out to the dining area.

The two sat down and ate, or to be accurate, Sadik ate and she nibbled and sipped, finding herself too nauseated to make much of an effort. Sadik's cloying voice and chauvinistically solicitous manner sickened her. Finally, she decided to end the small talk, asking him pointedly about the carbon monoxide contamination at the Burnetts'.

"So, Sadik, tell me about your little carbon monoxide experiment in San Diego. Clearly, you didn't plan to kill me with it then, unless your little trick didn't work…that would have been fairly embarrassing for you, I suspect."

Sadik raised his eyebrow and had the audacity to look amused. "You are correct, my brilliant Sarah. It was an experiment. I had other, similar plans for your commander, had he been home sooner…and it did serve to weaken your intellect a bit. It allowed me to study you…watch you…I must say it was a pleasant experience, watching you sleep."

Mac looked at him aghast, the bread she had just swallowed sticking in her throat. She quickly took a sip of tea, trying to wash it down while she attempted to regain her composure. _He had watched her sleep. He had been in her room, and she hadn't even realized it._ It was a disturbing thought. Of course, Sadik could very well be lying…but then again, there was ample evidence that he had indeed been in the house in La Jolla.

Sadik seemed to read her thoughts. "Yes, sweet Sarah. I was there. Your nightclothes…it was rather appalling to see you wearing your commander's clothing, however, I suppose better one of his long shirts covering you as opposed to the wanton clothing you wear when you are with your lovers."

Mac just stared at him in wide-eyed horror. Yes, she had worn an old navy T-shirt of Harm's. And yes, when her nightmares, though far more infrequent than before, came upon her, her clothing would end up in a damp pile by the bed. Once again, he seemed to know what she was thinking.

"Yes, I did have the pleasure of seeing you as Allah made you. You are beautiful, my Sarah…" His gaze grew distant, and she knew he was picturing her in the nude. She felt the urge to cover herself, though she was dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved sweater. "A pity…" he mumbled to himself, then turned his focus back on her living form.

Desiring to change the subject and perhaps get some important information…after all, the CIA was only letting her do this on the chance that she might pick up vital intel, she asked him about his comments in front of the nightclub.

"What did you mean…'they will soon know the wrath of Allah.'"

"Ah, I was hoping to avoid such talk tonight." He took a slow sip of his tea.

Mac rolled her eyes. "Too bad. What have you done, Sadik?"

"Nothing they do not deserve…"

"They're just kids…and you told me so many lives were depending on me, that I could prevent many deaths if I came to you. Well, here I am. You don't have to do anything…you've planted explosives, haven't you? Just like you planted explosives on the Burnetts' terrace. Why?" Mac prayed the listening device was picking this up. _But what was the name of the club?_

"You continue to amaze me, Sarah. You are correct. The world must know that we can no longer tolerate such moral decay. As those 'kids,' as you so affectionately refer to them, leave the Red Witch for further 'fun,' they will be sent to their judgement. I believe they will fare none too well."

Mac's pulse raced. She couldn't let this happen. She had no idea if anyone could make it there in time to stop it from happening, or if Sadik had the means of detonating the explosives early if he learned his plans were about to be foiled. At least she now knew the club's name, but would that matter in the end? "Sadik…you have me…you _don't_ need to do this. I came to you…what can I do to stop this?" She rose from her chair and stood before him, willing to use her body to prevent further violent acts at his hand. She certainly had no intention of sleeping with him or of letting him rape her, but if she could distract him…

Mac could sense Sadik was aroused. His now blue eyes were focused on her with burning intensity and she could see his pupils had dilated beneath the contacts that obscured his true eye color. His breathing had quickened almost imperceptibly. Here was her chance…

Sadik stood from his chair as well and stood toe to toe with her. He reached out a hand and tangled his fingers in her hair, sliding them through before stroking her cheek. "You _will_ be a proper woman, Sarah. You will live by the laws of Islam. You will no longer flaunt your bare skin to the world outside. But alone, with me, you will never have to cover yourself." His fingers traveled further downward to run along her collarbone. She shivered, and he smiled. "You feel it, don't you, Sarah. The pull of a virtuous life. I would worship you…you would never want for anything…"

 _Just my freedom,_ she thought with derision as both of his hands gripped her waist, fingers splaying across her back. She stood completely still, letting him believe her trembling was due to her intense longing for him and not due to the complete revulsion she actually felt. His hands moved up, thumbs touching the underside of her breast. Mac prayed he wouldn't feel the watch tucked in her bra, but to her immense relief he kept the touch light as his hands then traveled over the swell of her bosom. She felt sick and dizzy, closing her eyes against the spinning room and biting her lip to quell the rise of bile. Soon she was going to have to make her move against Sadik, but right now she didn't feel she had the balance nor the strength to inflict maximum damage. Sadik's hands continued to move over her.

Steadying herself she took a shuddering breath. Sadik's left hand cupped her right breast as his right hand ran over her décolletage, moving from her throat down to her… _oh god._

Mac's eyes flew open as Sadik's hand stilled over the valley between her breasts. He removed his other hand from where it rested and then used both of them to rip her sweater open. Buttons flew and bounced off the table as he roughly grabbed the modified pen, scratching her across the chest in the process. He held it in front of her eyes. "What is this, Sarah?"

Hoping against hope that it was still broadcasting, Mac schooled her features into an expression of wry amusement. "Your downfall, Sadik," she smirked.

He backhanded her across the face.

 _End Chapter 41_


	42. Third Floor

_A/N: Greetings from Chapter 42! I must apologize, these kinds of scenes aren't going to be my best work…I did borrow some words from the episode "Persian Gulf," if something seems familiar. Read, enjoy (tolerate), and there is only one chapter to go…which I will enjoy writing more than this one! Oh, and let's pretend Mac's apartment is on the third floor…it doesn't matter for the chapter, just the chapter title. ;P_

 **Delicate**

 **Chapter 42: Third Floor**

 _0011 Local_

 _Mac's Apartment_

Georgetown

Mac stumbled back a bit, but she didn't go down. She was momentarily dazed but as she tasted her blood in her mouth, she felt a new resolve. She would not go out without a fight. Sadik still held the modified pen in front of her eyes, fury etched on his face. _Did he honestly think she would go into this without backup? Possibly sketchy backup, but still backup._

"What is this, Sarah?" He waved the pen in her face.

"What do you think it is?" She was baiting him but sensed he'd be most unbalanced if he were angry.

"Do not play games with me, Sarah." His tone was cold, controlled, but there was definite ire beneath it.

"It's a pen, Sadik. Surely they have those in…what country are you from again?"

His eyes darkened, a sinister effect underneath his blue contacts. "You know very well…the same country of your grandmother. The same country you—

"This again? I am American, Sadik. I was born here. My grandmother came over when she was fifteen. She spent more time in America than she ever did in Iran. We do _not_ share the same heritage, Sadik."

"Only because you choose to live the life of a whore."

"There's that word again, Sadik. If I'm such a whore, then why are you so fascinated by me? You want me, you claim you would worship me…and then you hit me, scorn me. Have your feelings changed so quickly, or is this just your standard behavior to get a woman to submit to you?"

"You have betrayed me, Sarah."

"I might have."

Sadik raised his arm again, but this time, Mac was ready. She blocked him, then unleashed a vicious right hook, striking him in the jaw. He was obviously surprised, so she took the opportunity to hit him again. The little pen flew from his grasp and he fell back a few paces, but he recovered quickly. She managed to dodge him as he came at her again, twisting away and kicking him into the dining room table. Tea and soup spilled onto the table and the carpet below.

"Had enough, Sadik?" He lifted himself from the table, swiping at his bleeding lip. He was breathing heavily, and clearly enraged. _Good. He wouldn't be thinking clearly._ She continued to taunt him. "So, what's your celestial reward if you get bested by a woman?" She was no slouch at hand-to-hand combat, but she would prefer to be armed. Sadik's coat containing her gun had been hung by the door. She didn't know where Sadik's weapon was. That mystery was quickly solved, however, when he pulled it from under his jacket. He pointed it at her and they both stilled.

"You are no woman."

"What was that, Sadik?"

"You. Are. _No._ Woman."

"I see you didn't do well in biology class." She tried to ignore the gun pointed at her chest.

"You have no husband, no children. You are alone. You are no more a woman than I am." Sadik looked smug. "You are nothing but a barren whore."

"Am I? Well, last I checked, I wasn't selling myself…and as for being barren…"

"You've been selling yourself since you were seventeen years old, Sarah. Filthy garage bathrooms, drunken parties…tell me, how many times did you trade yourself for alcohol? How many times, Sarah?"

"Nice try, Sadik." She took a step back toward his coat and her gun. Something about what he had said nagged at her, but she pushed it aside.

"Perhaps you don't sell yourself for objects or money, Sarah…but that doesn't make you any less a whore. You play at being a woman, just like you played at being a wife and mother in Paraguay. You gave yourself to Clayton Webb mere hours after crying for your commander, and then you gave yourself to Harmon Rabb just days after being with Clayton Webb. You gave yourself to your husband, and I use that term loosely, and a week later, you allow your body to be taken in a drunken stupor."

That caused Mac's eyes to go wide. How did he…

"You allowed Rabb to come in here and curse at you, abuse you."

 _What? Harm never…oh god, that night…before he came back to JAG…_ She involuntarily gasped.

"Ah, so I have your attention now, Sarah." Sadik made his way to the stereo system that was still playing Persian music in the background. He pressed the button to change discs…

"How did—" And suddenly Mac realized how Sadik knew so much about her past. Sounds of a man and woman obviously engaged in a sexual encounter filled her apartment. There was no question as to who the players were…Harm's voice came through loud and clear, and her own… _oh my god._ Sadik had been recording them. During their most intimate moments, he had been recording them. The bastard flicked the remote toward the stereo and new sounds came through the speaker. It was still Harm and Mac, her voice agitated as she told him about losing her virginity, the rape the following week and then her tears as Harm comforted her.

Sadik spoke over the recording. "You know, my men were eager to have you…I forbid it, even killed a man who expressed his intentions toward you far too enthusiastically. I was looking out for you, Sarah…but I think my protection of you may have been misguided."

The track was changed again. It was more of Harm and Mac making love…although now it had been cheapened, had become something dirty.

Mac forced herself not to react. Sadik couldn't know how this affected her. He kept switching the tracks on the CD. It was more of the same…until she heard the sound of herself sobbing. The grief and pain were obvious through the tears and Mac knew without a doubt that is was from one of nights she had sat in her tub and cried over Harm. It was a private, painful moment; all of these moments were private, and Mac felt violated. How long had this been going on? How long had Sadik been listening in on her life? The track changed again…this time it wasn't Harm's voice she heard…but Clay's as they… _oh god._ And then the worst sound came through her speakers: Harm and the horrible things he'd said that night before his return to JAG. His scorn for her came through loud and clear. The cruel innuendos about her and Clay…she was reliving it all over again.

Sadik was smirking at her. "Yes, Sarah. It is very disturbing, isn't it? The man who claims to love you, saying those things. Clearly, he does not respect you, clearly you do not respect yourself. You've let yourself become weak, immoral. I have ample evidence of that; there are many more hours of recordings…this is just a 'greatest hits' if you will.'"

Mac felt the room closing in on her. "Why did you do this, Sadik? What purpose does this serve? Does it get you more weapons? Does it get you more diamonds to pay for those weapons? Does it help you blow up innocent children? _Why?"_

Sadik's smile grew wolfish. "Why, Sarah, I merely wanted to know you better…but sadly I have been nothing but disappointed. I was hoping you would earn a second chance tonight…you do still fascinate me, but it seems you cannot overcome your nature. So very sad, I really did want to give you that second chance." While they had been listening to the CD and 'chatting,' Sadik had lowered his gun, but now he drew it up and pointed it at her again.

"Ah, so it really is just personal for you, Sadik. And a chance from you is not one I need or want." She paused as the sound of distant sirens appeared in the background. They were getting closer. _Please let them be there for The Red Witch._

She couldn't resist taunting him. "I think those are for you, Sadik. I think you've been discovered. I think you just squandered your freedom to get to me."

Sadik's eyes widened. The sirens were indeed getting closer and one could almost imagine they were pulling up to her building. He faltered a bit and Mac chose that moment to kick the gun out of his hand. She didn't see where it had landed; Sadik rushed at her before she could follow it to the ground.

He crashed into her and she grunted as she was slammed hard against a wall. Mac still managed to kick him away from her only for him to come at her again. Together, they wrestled around the apartment, slamming into multiple items of furniture and knocking over various books and décor. Mac was dimly aware of the sound of shattering glass in the background as each took turns getting the upper hand. Their fists clashed, and Mac felt great satisfaction of the feel of her knuckles smashing against Sadik's flesh. She kept an eye out for Sadik's gun but so far it eluded her.

Sadik managed to shove her down onto her couch. Looming over her, his fist crashed down onto her shoulder, and Mac felt as if every bone there had exploded. She rolled away from his next blow, making it only just glance off her back, then used all of her strength to get into a position to kick him away.

"You fight like a girl, Sadik," she panted. "A word of advice…don't fuck with a marine." She turned on him and then it was he who lay back on the couch. She pummeled him again and again, punctuating each blow with words. _"I am_ _NOT_ _weak, I am NOT a whore, and I am NOT BARREN!"_

She drew back her fist to strike again, but then saw the glint of gunmetal gray a few feet from her. It momentarily distracted her and Sadik managed to push her away from him. He was off the couch, but also had fortuitously managed to push her toward his gun. She dove for it, surprised that he didn't come after her. She caught movement in her peripheral vision and, grabbing the gun, she rolled over and saw Sadik pulling her gun out of his coat pocket. Without hesitation, she fired her weapon, striking him in the shoulder. He dropped to his knees, the gun falling to his side. He made a motion to reach for it, but it was clear there was too much damage to his shoulder. He pressed his other hand to the wound, looking up at her with…could it be fear? Blood pooled out from between his fingers, and the image of Harm being shot in the shoulder in her dream ran through her mind.

They stared at each other, Mac slowly lowering her weapon. The apartment was quiet for several seconds…but then the sound of her broken sobbing filled the room again. She looked toward her stereo, then back down to find the bastard grinning at her. Rage filled her as he suddenly twitched to the side.

It took less than a second. The bullet struck Sadik cleanly between his eyes and Mac watched the life drain from them as she numbly lowered her weapon. In the background she could hear more sirens approaching along with shouting and pounding on doors. The stereo continued to play.

Sadik's body slumped to the floor. Mac stared at it for a few seconds, half-convinced he would rise up to strike again. He didn't.

It was over.

 _End Chapter 42_


	43. Midnight

_A/N: I lied! There is still one more chapter left. I decided to break this up. I've been up for over twenty-four hours waiting to deliver a baby (not mine!) and I decided that the last part deserved someone who was actually awake. And I really didn't have a problem with Deputy Director Kershaw in the show, I just needed a bit of a 'villain' for this chapter._

 **Delicate**

 **Chapter 43: Midnight**

 _0029 Local_

 _Mac's Apartment_

 _Georgetown_

"Mac? Sarah? _Mac!"_ Mac was vaguely aware that someone was calling her name, but she couldn't take her eyes off the body of Sadik Fahd. The body of the man she had just killed. The voice kept buzzing in her ear, irritating her, keeping her from doing…what? She felt someone slip something from her hand…she couldn't exactly remember what she had been holding. Something moved in front of her, blocking her view of the dead man. She didn't know if she was supposed to be pissed about it or relieved. She didn't really know what she was supposed to be doing…

" _MAC!"_ The object in front of her spoke.

"What?" she mumbled. She felt something, someone grab her upper arms. _God, he was coming after her again. Why wouldn't it stop? She had killed him…hadn't she? She had to get those hands off of her._

Mac jumped, wrenching herself away from whomever held her. She frantically started to search for her gun…her gun. No, that wasn't right. It was Sadik's gun. Sadik's gun that she had used to kill him. But then who was talking to her? Not Sadik…

"Mac, Mac…Sarah…you're okay. It's over."

 _Over. It'll never be over…_

"Come on, Mac. Let's go sit down."

"No." She wasn't going anywhere with him.

"Sarah…please…"

Finally, something clicked in her brain. _Clay._ It was Clay talking to her. "Clay!" But what was he doing there? _Oh, right_.

Clay's arm went around her, and he pulled her over toward the couch. Her left shoulder was throbbing, and something about the couch made it hurt more. Right. That's where she was when Sadik hit her. "Um, can we just…the kitchen…" She and Sadik hadn't fought in there. Clay nodded, and they started to move toward her kitchen. Mac was suddenly aware that there were other people around them, dusting things, bagging things…her apartment was a crime scene. Because of Sadik.

Mac knew her thinking wasn't entirely clear. She felt like she was walking through quicksand. Her muscles felt heavy and she thought that any moment she would sink down under the weight of it all. But there was something she needed to do…something… _Harm!_ She needed to call Harm. He was probably frantic. "Clay…I need to, um…Harm…I should call…" But it was soon apparent that Clay wasn't paying attention. He was looking off toward the living room. The people collecting evidence had stopped moving. All of them were looking toward…the stereo. _The stereo. Oh god…_

Sounds of one of Harm and Mac's encounters filled the apartment. Harm telling her what he wanted to do to her, she answering him in kind and crying out his name. _Oh god…_

Mac closed her eyes, trying to block it out, but knowing she needed to stop it. Clay had moved forward to turn it off. He stood there studying it, eyes frantically searching for the power button. With blood roaring in her ears, she pushed in front of Clay. Her hand shot out, and she struck the machine with the heal of her hand. It didn't stop, so she pulled her arm back and punched it as hard as she could. Pain exploded in her hand and she was sure there were several new bruises and cuts along her knuckles. But the damn thing was finally quiet.

"Sarah." Clay was speaking to her. She turned her head toward his voice. "Sarah, let's go. To the kitchen. Let me check on your hand."

Mac nodded and allowed him to turn her toward her kitchen. But there was something she needed… _Harm._ "Clay…I need to tell Harm I'm…okay. I need to call him."

"We'll call him, Sarah."

"No, I need to call him now." A sense of panic filled her. She was worried she was feeling Harm's panic.

"I know, Sarah."

"Clay…I killed him."

"I know, Sarah."

"No…you don't. I—I shot him. In the head. I d-didn't h-have to. He couldn't fire. I'd already wounded him. H-he couldn't fire. B-but h-he…smiled—" She shuddered. "He started to lean toward his gun…s-so I shot him. In the head. I need to call Harm…"

They made it to kitchen and Clay pushed her into a chair and filled a glass of water that he set in front of her. She ignored it and buried her face in her hands. She needed to get a grip. She was talking crazy. Of course Clay knew she had shot and killed Sadik. But did she really have to kill him? Yes…he was still trying to go for the gun. But was he? He wouldn't have been able to fire with his shoulder wound…she needed to stop making herself crazy. She needed to be with Harm.

Mac was aware that someone else was in the kitchen with them. He was asking her questions, but she wasn't ready to answer them. She was a marine, dammit. She should be able to get it together here. She stood suddenly, causing the chair she had been sitting in to nearly tip over.

"I need to change."

"Can it wait?" The voice belonged to the other man in the room. She looked up. It was Deputy Director Kershaw, and he looked rather impatient.

She glared at him. "No." She turned on her heel, but a wave of dizziness overtook her, and she had to reach out and grab the back of her chair to steady herself. Clay was there in an instant, helping her to sit down and commanding her to drink some of the water he had given her. She complied but it took a few minutes for the world to stop spinning. But maybe the world wasn't spinning…maybe she was. She wanted Harm. She needed to call him. She asked for Clay's phone, but Kershaw started firing questions at her. She looked down at her hand and noticed it was bleeding in various places. It throbbed too, but she welcomed it. She understood that pain.

Mac obviously wasn't answering Director Kershaw's questions to his liking because he kept repeating himself, getting louder each time. She heard Clay asking him to give her a break, let her change, let her calm down…but he wouldn't. Finally, she just got up and walked away, heading down the hall to her bedroom. She heard both men calling after her, but chose to ignore them. She wanted out of these clothes. She wanted to call Harm.

She opened her bedroom door, did her best to ignore the fact that the bed had been turned down, and reached for the phone…then promptly let it go again. She couldn't call from here. She was being recorded…listened to. She wanted to vomit. Correction: she was going to vomit. She sprinted to the bathroom and heaved into the toilet.

Clay found her there, leaning against her tub. "Sarah?" She turned her head toward him.

"He was recording me…us. He heard everything, Clay. Even when you and I…and Harm…" She shuddered.

Clay knelt down next to her. "Do you think you can talk to Kershaw now?" he asked gently.

Mac nodded. "I suppose I should get this over with." If nothing else, the vomiting seemed to pull her out of her stupor. She made to get up off the floor, but another wave of dizziness washed over her, causing her to drop back down.

"Sarah? I think we should have you checked out at the hospital." Clay was watching her with concern etched on his face.

Mac shook her head. "No, I'll be alright. It's not the first time I've been dizzy these last few days. I think I'm just a bit overwhelmed. Just give me a minute." She did _not_ want to go to any hospital, at least not for herself. She was bruised, battered, but she would heal. She wanted, no, _needed_ to get back to Harm.

Clay shifted so he was sitting next to her, back also leaning against the tub. They were both quiet for a minute before Mac spoke again. "Took you guys long enough to get here…oh my god, Clay—the Red Witch club…did you—are they— "

"We got it, Mac. Everyone was safely evacuated, and the explosives are being dealt with."

Mac closed her eyes for a second. "Thank god," she murmured. "So, what took you guys so long? I was getting a little worried."

Clay suddenly looked uncomfortable.

"What, Clay…spit it out."

"Sarah…"

"Dammit, Clay!"

"We didn't know where you were…exactly."

"I know I lost my phone, but— "

"We had you until Metro Station, but after that…"

"The watch…it didn't work…"

Clay shook his head. "No, it didn't."

"Oh…then how did…I must have said something…"

"No, you didn't, at least not while the pen was still broadcasting."

Mac could feel a tremor go through her body. It had been close…if she hadn't gotten hold of a gun first…

She took a deep breath to calm herself. "Then how did— "

"Harm."

"What?"

"He called us…he was frantic. Insisted we needed to get to your apartment. I don't know how he knew…"

"He always knows where I am…" The words came out in a whisper. _Oh, Harm…_ What she wouldn't give to have her Flyboy's arms around her. _Time to get this show on the road._

"Clay…let's do this. Kershaw's probably chomping at the bit."

"Right." Clay helped her up, making sure she was steady on her feet before letting go. They found Kershaw in her living room, watching as his team bagged Sadik's body. Mac's stomach lurched at seeing the terrorist's face again. She stepped closer to Clay as Kershaw turned to them. He didn't look happy.

"We could have gotten so much intel from him."

And then the doubt was back. _Did she really have to kill him? Couldn't she have just wounded him again?_ And the worst of it…did she kill him to protect herself or was it revenge? If it was revenge, could she live with that?

Kershaw said a few more things regarding the loss of the potential information Sadik could have provided. Mac mostly ignored him until he actually asked what happened. She told her story as matter-of-factly as she could, only faltering when she told them about Sadik's bugging of the place.

"We'll need that disc…we'll have to take the entire CD player given its…condition." He looked at Mac as he said this, and she felt the throbbing in her hand intensify. And then she registered what Kershaw had said.

"No."

"Excuse me?" Kershaw glared down at her.

" _No._ No disc. There's nothing on there that…needs to be heard." The idea of a CIA team listening to her most intimate, private moments made her want to vomit again.

"You don't know that." Kershaw spoke with finality.

Mac felt Clay's gaze on her. She turned to him, the pleading in her eyes obvious _._

"Harrison—"

Kershaw ignored Clay and Mac watched as the CD Player was pulled off its shelf, feeling violated all over again.

Mac stepped away from the two men, intent on getting her coat on and collecting her purse. She needed to get to Harm, needed his solid presence to surround her. She couldn't stay here another minute. "Clay—" She reached her arm out to him, but then her balance faltered and her vision tunneled. The floor suddenly seemed a lot closer.

Someone's arms went around her and then she heard Clay's voice in her ear. "Okay, Sarah, that's it. You're getting checked at the hospital."

She didn't fight him. It would at least get her away from Kershaw.

* * *

 _0316 Local_

 _Georgetown Medical Center_

 _Georgetown_

Mac sat on a most uncomfortable gurney in the ER, waiting for the doctor to come in with her test results. She was irritated that they even felt the need to draw blood; she felt fine—couldn't they just X-ray her hand and be done with it? Well, perhaps she was just a little dizzy yet, and Clay had insisted on telling the doctor that she'd nearly passed out in her apartment. She glared over at him, still pissed at his big mouth. She had wanted to be out of here by now, had wanted to be with Harm. Clay had assured her that he'd talked to the admiral who would let Harm know she was okay, but until she could be back in his arms…or arm given his recent mishap…oh lord, she was so tired, and she was still thinking crazy.

The doctor then came back in with her labs in hand. He started asking more questions, questions she really didn't have solid answers to. They were going to send her to the radiology department now to X-ray her hand…

Clay looked up at her, a question in his eyes. Yes, she was fine. She'd be fine down in radiology. He would wait for her.

* * *

 _0402 Local_

 _Georgetown Medical Center_

 _Georgetown_

Mac was back in her bay in the ER, waiting for her discharge paperwork. Thankfully, her hand wasn't broken, but it still hurt like absolute hell. The Tylenol they had given her wasn't doing much, but she was no stranger to pain. She'd live.

Clay had stepped out to answer a call, leaving her to wait alone. She was grateful for it; so many thoughts were rolling through her head. She wanted Harm more than anything, but right now she didn't think she could face him. Maybe she could never face him again…no, she would have to. Just not now.

Mac felt like she was back in the fog that existed just after she had killed Sadik. It was hard to form a coherent thought, but one thing she was sure of…she needed to get out of here. The walls of the ER bay were closing in on her, and if she didn't get free of them soon, she was sure she would lose the last bit of control she was still clinging to. The problem was, she had no idea where she should go. She certainly couldn't go home; even if the CIA crew had finished their tasks, she didn't really think she could ever go back there. Bethesda or Harm's apartment were out of the question…there was really only one place she could go. She reached in her purse and looked in her wallet; she had what she needed.

Mac grabbed her jacket and poked her head around the curtain separating her from the hallway. None of the ER staff seemed to be heading her way, and Clay was at the end of the hall, his back toward her. He appeared to be in deep conversation with whomever was on the phone, and Mac, looking up and down the hall again, took advantage of the fact that no one seemed to be paying any attention to her. She took a deep breath.

Seconds later she found herself stepping out of the hospital into the cool March air. She gave the glass doors of the ER entrance a last look as they closed behind her, then turned and walked away.

 _End Chapter 43_


	44. Delicate

_A/N: OK, this really is the last chapter…thank you all for reading—there will be additional author's notes at the end._

 **Delicate**

 **Chapter 44: Delicate**

 _0536 Local_

 _JAG Headquarters_

 _Falls Church, VA_

Mac sat in the right back corner of Courtroom 2 staring down at the little gold object in her hands. The face of it was cracked, and the hands would be forever stalled at 10:25. It seemed fitting; it was Harm's watch and that was Harm's birthday—the tenth month, the twenty-fifth day. And she had failed to keep it safe. So how would she ever—no, she wouldn't think about that right now.

She had been sitting in this back bench for forty-two minutes, thirty-two seconds. It rather amazed her that as muddled as her mind was, her time-sense seemed to be fully functional once again. Good thing, since she had broken Harm's watch…she didn't even know when or how it had

happened, only that it had, and that made her furious with herself. How could Harm ever trust her to care for something of his again?

For another six minutes, two seconds, Mac sat hunched over and shivering. She couldn't say she was cold, not in the typical sense of the word, but still, she couldn't stop shaking.

Perhaps her tremors had to do with what she had just done…she had killed the bastard, that motherfu— . She cut herself off. There was no sense in getting worked up about it. It was over. _Over._ She still shook.

She wanted Harm, but how could she explain…his watch was broken...

The courtroom was dark and silent. She wished her mind was too.

* * *

 _0549 Local_

 _JAG Headquarters_

 _Falls Church, VA_

"Mac?"

The voice came as if from a great distance.

"Sarah?" That voice was closer.

There was a tentative touch on her shoulder. She ignored it. She wanted to be alone.

"Sarah? Are you okay? Please talk to me." The pressure on her shoulder increased. It hurt. Why did it it hurt? _Oh, right. Sadik._ A whimper of pain escaped from her lips. The hand let go. She missed it. She missed Harm.

"Sarah, honey. Come back to me. _Please…"_ Gentle fingers stroked through her hair. It was the only place on her body that didn't hurt. She leaned toward it.

"Sarah. I'm here. I'm h-he _—"_ The voice broke. It sounded so sad, just like her. A tear formed and escaped down her cheek. The hand shifted from her hair and she felt a gentle thumb brush the tear a way. Just like Harm's…Harm… "Harm?"

The relief in his voice caused another tear to fall. "Oh, baby…I'm here…"

 _But for how long?_

"I broke your watch." She thrust the damaged timepiece into his hand. "I'm sorry."

Harm looked confused. "That's okay, sweetheart. I don't care about the watch…I'm worried about you—are you okay?"

 _No._

"Yeah."

Harm didn't look convinced. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and Mac almost cried at the tenderness of the gesture. "You left the hospital, honey. Webb called…he was worried about you."

Mac looked down at her toes.

"I'm worried about you," he said again, his hand rubbing slow, soothing circles on her back. She wanted to crawl into his lap and just let him hold her. But of course, she didn't.

"You don't have to be."

"Sweetheart, why did you come here?"

Mac looked out across the vacant courtroom. She had yet to look him in the eye, but a brief glance at him reminded her of his own recent tangle with Sadik. His left arm rested in a sling; there was still bruising of his forehead and around his right eye. He had to be uncomfortable…and he should _not_ be out of the hospital.

"Harm! Why aren't you in the hospital?"

"They let me go."

At that, Mac did raise her eyes to his. He looked completely innocent, but she knew better. She raised an eyebrow.

Harm turned sheepish. "Uh, the admiral sprung me. He convinced them I would cause far more damage to myself if they didn't let me go to you."

She smiled a little at that. Typical Harm.

"So why aren't you still in the hospital?" His tone was gentle, and she had the impression he was treating her like a skittish pony.

"They were ready to discharge me." She didn't elaborate further.

"Then why didn't you wait for Webb?"

Mac felt her eyes burn with more unshed tears. Harm was so wonderful, understanding…so how could she—

"Sarah?"

"I just couldn't stay there any longer…and I didn't know where else to go," she said, gesturing to the room around them.

"You could have come to me." He was rubbing her back again. It felt good. But Mac shrank away from him.

She looked up at the ceiling, feeling a tear escape. Harm brushed it away. "I couldn't…I just couldn't face you."

"Sweetheart, no matter what, I love you. You can always come to me."

Mac didn't respond, and Harm sighed. "Sarah, Webb told me you almost fainted before…when he got back in the room and you weren't there…"

"He knows I can take care of myself." Something finally registered with her. "Wait. You talked to Webb…and you didn't kill him?"

Harm chuckled a bit. "No, Mac, I didn't kill him."

"Are you going to?"

Harm's eyes widened. "No! You…care about him, and Webb and I...well, let's just say he and I have reached an understanding."

She threw him a skeptical look.

"But…"

 _Here it comes._

He smiled. "The next time someone tells me I'm going to be a father, please don't let it be Webb."

Mac's mouth fell open in shock. _He knew._ She looked over at him and bit her lip. "You must hate me."

Harm looked genuinely bewildered. "Sarah, why would—"

"Because…I…didn't mean to…I mean, I forgot my pill—"

"You've been stressed."

"That's no excuse."

"It's okay, Sarah."

"And Clay…the doctor thought we were together…"

"Honest mistake. I'm just glad someone was there for you…even if it was the spook."

"I-I put our baby in danger…I fought…with Sadik…" Mac could feel her control slipping.

"You didn't know."

"That's just it!" She was furious and disgusted with herself. "What kind of woman doesn't know she's pregnant for that long?! And then the carbon monoxide exposure—yes, Sadik did something at your parents' house—the doctor told me the baby could have problems, defects—they don't know how much exposure I actually got but the baby…the baby could have gotten much more! How can you _NOT_ hate me? _I_ hate me!"

Harm's good arm went around her. She wanted to fight him off, knew she could, given his injuries, but she didn't want to hurt him either. So, she sat in his embrace, rigid, her muscles stiff and unyielding. She felt him kiss her head while she seethed. The roaring was back in her brain and it was all too much. This was too much…she needed…

She needed Harm. She needed his comfort. She didn't want to need it. She still didn't believe he wouldn't wake up and realize what a poor excuse for a woman, a mother, she was. Maybe Sadik had a point…

Harm spoke softly into her ear. "I love you, Sarah. Let me hold you. I just want to hold you." Mac started to shake again. His arm around her tightened and he kept whispering to her.

"I need you, Sarah. I love you. I love our baby. I don't hate you. I could never hate you. How could I hate the mother of my child?" Mac felt herself starting to relax against him. She was so tired…but she had to tell him the whole of it, that they had both been violated, really. She just wanted to rest against him a bit before she told him.

"How did you find me, Harm?" she whispered sleepily.

"You have to ask, Ninja Girl? I always know where you are."

"But—" She realized she didn't really have a question to ask. Harm had found her over and over throughout the years, just like she'd found him.

"How did you get here? You didn't drive, did you?" Harm shook his head.

"No, Mac, I didn't drive…the admiral—"

"He's here?"

"Yeah, he's waiting for us…he's been worried about you, too."

"Oh." So she'd have to face the admiral tonight as well.

"It'll be okay, Mac."

Mac pulled away from him and drew in a shaky breath. "Harm…there's something else…Sadik. He bugged my apartment. For months. He heard things—you and I together…and Clay…I'm sorry, Harm…he heard everything. Even the night you-you…that night…He made me listen to it. Kershaw took the disc as evidence…who knows who's going to hear it…he listened to me cry, Harm…he listened to us while we…m-made love. He heard you say those things…"

Harm pulled her tight against him again, but not before she saw his look of horror in the dim lighting of the courtroom. "Oh, god, Sarah. I'm so sorry…"

"And I killed him, Harm," she said, face pressed into his shoulder. "I shot him in the forehead, but he was already down—shoulder wound. He wouldn't have been able to fire…but he looked like he was reaching for it, the gun, so I-I fired. But I don't know if I killed him in self-defense, or—or if I—" Mac didn't say anything else for several beats.

"If what, honey?"

"If I…murdered him."

"Oh, Mac…"

"I know, Harm" He was disappointed in her, she could tell. She dropped her head in shame, only to feel him pull it closer to press a kiss to her temple.

"No, no, Mac…you could never have just murdered somebody…you did what had to be done."

"Did I? They could have gotten so much information out of him. I ruined that…I was angry, humiliated…maybe I—"

" _NO,_ Mac. You don't know for sure that he couldn't fire…he wouldn't have spared a thought about killing you…and for him it _would_ have been revenge. You did what you had to do. And I hope that bastard is rotting in hell now." His voice took on a distinct edge. "If he had hurt you…really hurt you…I don't…I wouldn't…I wouldn't have been able to go on."

She leaned in to him, relishing the softness of his navy sweatshirt over the hard planes of his chest against her cheek. She sighed. "Harm, I'm so tired."

"Then let's go find the admiral." He helped her to stand; actually, they helped each other stand, and then headed for the door.

Mac paused as they stepped out of the courtroom. "Harm? I don't think I can go back to my apartment. I don't think I'll ever be able to set foot in it again."

"My home is your home, if you want it to be. And Sarah, I want it to be."

She thought for a minute. "Okay," she whispered.

"Then let's go home."

* * *

 _0638 Local_

 _Harm's Apartment_

 _North of Union Station_

Harm closed the door behind Admiral Chegwidden and turned back toward Mac. She knew she looked nervous and awkward, standing in the middle of the living area. Her mind was wandering again, and she knew she had reached the limits of her stamina. All the self-doubt and personal recriminations had come back in spades, and it was all making her dizzy. Or maybe it was the pregnancy. She was pregnant. Nine weeks pregnant. And she'd had no idea.

"Sarah? Mac?" Mac jumped.

"Wha-what?" Harm stood in front of her, his expression concerned.

"Are you okay?" He reached out and laid a palm on her cheek. His thumb brushed over the dark circles of her eyes.

"Yeah—sorry…I—I'm just having a hard time…focusing, I guess. None of it seems real, or maybe it's too real…I don't know…" She shivered.

"You're tired…"

"Yeah, a bit," she said absently. She didn't move from where she stood, her mind going a mile a minute, the thoughts moving too fast for her to really hold onto. She heard her name being called again. It irritated her. _Why couldn't they all just leave her alone? Oh, god, she was doing it again. Her mind was slipping…_

"Mac!"

Mac jumped. "I-I'm sorry, Harm. I can't…I can't seem to…I don't know…"

Harm tilted her chin up and looked deeply into her eyes. "Sarah, you're safe now, okay?" She nodded. She knew she was…but…

Harm was speaking again. She did her best to pay attention, but she missed most of it. She didn't miss the worry in his eyes, though. She wanted to reassure him that she was fine, but the words wouldn't come. Maybe because she wasn't fine…

"Sarah, lets go lie down, okay? I think we'll both feel better with some rest." Mac caught that and managed a nod. Harm wrapped his arm around her and led her up the steps to his bedroom.

"Let's get you changed into something more comfortable, okay, honey?"

"Okay." She just stood there.

"Mac? Please, baby…" The pleading in his tone broke through her stupor.

"I'm okay, Harm. I'm sorry…I don't know what's wrong with me…" She started to unbutton her sweater; it was difficult with her bruised right hand and it suddenly occurred to her that she didn't remember re-buttoning it after Sadik had ripped it open. There were a couple of buttons missing, she noticed, making the sweater gape open in a few spots. Which meant the admiral had seen her bra. That thought made her want to giggle. Or cry. Or…she didn't know anymore.

She finally completed her task while Harm rummaged in his drawers for a sweatshirt for her. She slipped the sweater off her shoulders and was trying to remove her bra just as Harm turned around.

"Oh, _Mac…"_

She looked up at him, confused. He slowly walked up to her, his fingers reaching out to lightly graze her left shoulder. She turned her head toward it and let her eyes drift downward. Ugly, purple-black bruises covered the front of her shoulder and chest. "Oh," she said, reaching over with her other hand to run her finger over it. It was warm to the touch and felt swollen. "Um, he, uh, hit me."

Harm brushed over her bruise again and nodded. "I know, sweetheart." He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss over it. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay." She stared at him wide-eyed as his gentle caress reached the scratches on her chest from when Sadik discovered the pen. They burned a little, but the added warmth of his touch was soothing. He kissed her there as well then ran his hand down her arm. Ever so gently, he cradled first one of her hands, then the other in his much larger one, kissing each battered knuckle before letting it go. She continued to stare at him.

"This okay, Sarah?" he asked as he reached around to her back, touching the clasp of her bra. She nodded, and his deft fingers unhooked it. She felt her heavy breasts release as the bra slipped off her body, and she winced, acknowledging for the first time what the recent, near-constant ache of them meant. _How could she have missed all the signs?_

"You okay?" Harm asked, reaching for the sweatshirt he'd found for her. Mac nodded.

"They're just sore," she said, blushing. Harm just gave her cheek a short caress then helped her slip his sweatshirt over her head.

"Let's get your jeans off too, okay?" They both worked to slip them off of her.

She watched his face as he studied each of her newly revealed bruises. To her, it was obvious that he was trying to hold back his anger; his jaw had clenched and his eyes had gone to dark gray. "Oh, Sarah…if he weren't already dead, I would kill him with my bare hands." His voice shook with veiled fury.

Harm's anger at once warmed her and made her feel guilty. She reveled in the care he had for her but hated that his world had been upset by this monster.

Harm had stepped behind her, lifting the sweatshirt to see what further damage Sadik had caused. She felt his fingers gently stroking her skin, every now and then lowering his lips to kiss a certain spot. Finally, he slid a warm hand around to her front, letting the sweatshirt drop down. His big hand then pressed against her lower abdomen, over her womb. "We're having a baby, Sarah."

She covered his hand with her own. "We are," she whispered. Harm bent to kiss her neck, pulling her closer to his body. His big, solid body. She felt his injured arm in its sling press into her back. Thank god he hadn't been injured more severely. Thank god Sturgis had found him before he succumbed to the carbon monoxide poisoning. Thank god she hadn't lost him. She could have lost him…she could have lost the baby…she could still lose the baby… _oh god…_

Suddenly everything that happened during the last twenty-four hours really and truly caught up with her. She felt faint. Her breath quickened, her heart pounded, and all the terror she'd felt with Sadik coupled with her fears for Harm and their baby exploded in her body. "Harm, I-I need to sit down."

Harm quickly ushered her to the bed, sat them both down, and gathered her to him as much as he could. Mac thought vaguely to herself that he had to be in a fair amount of pain by now. And yet, he was still taking care of her. She didn't deserve him…

"Mac, honey, what is it? What just happened?"

It took her several seconds to reply. "I-I don't, I…oh god, Harm, I'm so…so scared!"

"You're safe, Sarah. Safe. I've got you."

"I could have lost you—"

"But you didn't."

"I could have lost our baby."

"You didn't. You won't."

"This is all my fault!"

"No, Sarah, no. It was Sadik. All Sadik."

" _Dammit_ , Harm. I brought him to us. Because of me, your parents could have been hurt. Or killed. Martha—I brought him into their home!"

Mac broke away from Harm's embrace and scooted up onto the bed. Her muscles screamed at her, the sudden jolts of pain in her hand and shoulder taking her breath away when she was already breathless. She knew she was losing it, but everything was so overwhelming, and it was all finally over but then it wasn't…

Sadik had gotten into her head. The names he called her…he knew she had thought any and all of those things about herself and he honed that knowledge into the sharpest of weapons. He had wanted her, wanted her body. She had let him touch her. He had gone so far as to ready her bed for them. And then he called her a whore. Tried to kill her. And her baby. He could have killed her baby. Harm's baby. And it would have been her fault. _Her fault…_

The sobs came then. Great, gulping sobs that caused her to curl into a ball because they threatened to tear her apart. She couldn't breathe. She was suffocating. She wanted to call for Harm, but she didn't deserve his comfort. She couldn't speak anyway. She could only sob and cry. And cry some more. All she did was cry. She was pathetic. She was what Sadik said she was… _NO! You're not, Sarah._ Her inner voice sounded like Harm.

 _Weak…barren…whore._ The words kept running through her mind. _Weak…but not barren…and_ NOT _a whore. But she was weak…so weak. If she weren't so weak, she wouldn't have lost control and killed Sadik. She wouldn't have run off to San Diego to see a shrink and end up dragging Harm's family into the curse of Sarah MacKenzie. She wouldn't have gone to Paraguay with Clay. She would have stayed and worked things out with Harm. She wouldn't have let her sadness and anger over Harm's failure to let her in on his fears about Sergei and Loren cause her to agree to a mission that ended up hurting everyone around her. She wouldn't have slept with Clay. She wouldn't have had to hear herself with Clay. Clay wouldn't have heard her with Harm. She wouldn't have exposed her unborn child to any of this. Her weakness was destroying everything around her. Sadik was right…_

 _NO, Sarah! Sadik was wrong! You are NOT weak. YOU ARE NOT WEAK!_ Her inner Harm voice was adamant. _You are not weak. You are brave. You are strong. Sarah…_

Mac felt something pulling her out of the compact little coil she had made of herself. She was lifted up and settled against something hard and soft at the same time. She wanted to struggle, but it was so warm here…and she was so cold and tired… _weak._ The sobs had taken the last bit of strength she had left. Time to give in. She uncoiled herself and collapsed into the warmth she had found.

* * *

 _0734 Local_

 _Harm's Apartment_

 _North of Union Station_

Mac had been crying for thirty-one minutes, forty-two seconds. It still amazed her that she hadn't lost her time sense again. Recent events being what they were, she expected it to have completely shorted out. But it hadn't, and as her sobs calmed to hiccups and shuddering breaths, she tracked each second that passed. At thirty-two minutes, she became aware of a heartbeat against her cheek. At thirty-two minutes, fourteen seconds, she felt strong arms holding her close. At thirty-two minutes, thirty-eight seconds, she heard someone singing softly in her ear. As her count got to thirty-two minutes forty-six seconds, she recognized the song.

 _Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter_

 _Little darling, it feels like years since it's been here_

 _Here comes the sun_

 _Here comes the sun, and I say_

 _It's all right…_

And the voice was Harm's.

 _Harm…_

Mac clutched bits of Harm's sweatshirt in her hand. For several more seconds (she decided she was tired of counting), she just listened to him sing. The words and his beautiful voice wrapped around her heart and calmed its frantic beating, and finally she drew in a deep, shaky breath.

"I didn't know you were a Beatles fan."

Harm's voice grew a little shaky as well. "Always and forever, Mac." Mac raised her head slightly off Harm's chest. She saw him looking down at her, a few tear tracks on his face as well. "Hi, Sarah."

Her mouth curved into a smile. "Hi, Harm."

"Welcome back."

"It's good to be back." And strangely, she felt like she had come back from somewhere far away. Her tears had exhausted her, not that she wasn't already exhausted, but she felt her mind had finally caught up with her body. She was safe, safe with Harm. She snaked her arms around his waist and held on for dear life. She heard him whisper into her hair.

"Sarah, you are _not_ weak. You are none of those things Sadik said."

Mac closed her eyes and held him even more tightly to her. Her brain knew Harm was right, but her heart would take a little longer to believe it.

"You are so brave."

"No, I'm not." She didn't feel brave. Brave meant handling things on her own, not needing anyone. She needed Harm too much. She had since she'd met him.

"Yes, you are. You're my Ninja Girl."

"Who needs you too much."

"Sometimes brave is admitting you do need someone."

"Harm, I'm scared. About what's going to happen…with our baby. So scared. I'm scared that what's just happened…with Sadik…will bring me back to where I was before I left for San Diego. I'm scared I won't be a good enough mother for your child. I'm—I'm just _scared._ How is that brave?"

"Sometimes brave is admitting you're scared. I'm scared too—not about you as a mother. You'll be wonderful and you're the only one I've ever wanted as the mother of my child. I worry about our child, but whatever happens with our baby, I'll love it and I'll love you."

"You will?" Mac hated sounding so unsure, but she'd never had someone like Harm before, someone who seemed to love her so unconditionally.

"Oh, Mac…I'll love you forever." Mac could only bury her face in his chest. "I will, Sarah. _Always_." He said fiercely. Mac didn't, couldn't say anything, and they were silent a while before Harm spoke again.

"Do you know when I first knew I loved you? I mean, I think I've actually loved you since the moment I took your hand and you introduced yourself as 'Mac.' But I knew I really loved you when you stood freezing in my apartment when we thought Webb was dead. Guarding me. My own Ninja Girl. And the moment I knew I was _in_ love with you? At Little AJ's christening…when we were taking pictures…that picture on my desk…you were holding AJ and you were looking down at him with such a look of wonder…and I wondered if you were imagining he was our baby—I was, you know. I wanted to tell you then that I loved you, but I was scared…I wasn't brave enough yet. I'll always be sorry about that, Sarah, but we're here now, and I love you. We're having our baby…and that _will_ finally be our baby in that picture. We're going to be the family we were always meant to be, Sarah. I'm not going to let either of you go. I love you. I love you. _I love you!"_

Harm's words had made her cry again, but this time they were tears of happiness. She was still scared, but she had admitted it. She needed Harm, and she had admitted that too. Maybe that was bravery. No, there was no maybe about it. It _was_ brave. Mac leaned back again and looked up into Harm's green-gray eyes, eyes the color of a storm-tossed sea. It was the first thing she'd noticed about him when they'd met, when they formed that first tentative bond. The delicate thread that had joined them together then had grown into the strongest of cords.

It was unbreakable.

 _End_

* * *

 _Well, there it is. Delicate. Thank you all for reading. All the reviews were so much appreciated. A special thanks to MAJ8395 for her constant encouragement and special thanks to macattack102712 for her thoughtful commentary—this is a better story for it._

 _A little trivia…all the male character names that weren't already in the JAG world were taken from roles played by the Duke—John Wayne, my mother's favorite actor. I've grown to appreciate him over the years, and wonderfully enough, David James Elliot played John Wayne in the movie "Trumbo." The new females in this story were named after female characters in John Wayne's movies, of course. John Wayne often starred opposite Maureen O'Hara. She's always been one of my favorite actresses and one of the most beautiful women to ever grace the silver screen—check out their movies :)_

 _Thank you all again for reading._

 _Standard disclaimers always apply (not much is mine here). Of course I must acknowledge Taylor Swift and her songs "Delicate," "This Love," and "Style." Chapter titles came from those songs. Also need to acknowledge the George Harrison song, "Here Comes the Sun." He really was the best Beatle. To quote Will Ferrell as Ron Burgundy: If you disagree with me, I. Will. Fight. You. OK, not really :)_

 _Stay tuned for the sequel :) It's coming._

 _Darcey_


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